Castle Case Files Volume 2
by Minstrel164
Summary: The second volume of Richard Castle's case related memoirs
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Case of Deep In Death

Part 1

In many ways it had been a miserable summer for me. The look of disappointment on Beckett's face was indelibly imprinted on my mind as I walked away from her in the hospital. For the next week or maybe longer I did not get any calls from 12th Precinct and more to the point no calls from Detective Beckett. Not for a moment I did not think that the murderers in New York City had taken a holiday.

Seeing that she would not call me, I tried calling her but all I got was her voice mail, no doubt she was screening my calls. At first I would leave messages but after a while when I did not get any call backs I stopped leaving messages when I got her voice mail until I finally got the message and stopped calling all together.

"_You touch my mother's case, and you and I are done."_

Her words kept revolving around in my head every time I tried calling her. The reasons for me wanting to call her was because I wanted to explain to her why I had done what I had. I had wanted to tell her that I could have kept what I had learned secret but she had a right to know. Detective Beckett did not want to talk to me. Talk about being in the bad books. I was really deep in Beckett's Bad Book.

I could have picked up the phone and called the Big Cheese and use his influence but I decided not to go that way. If Beckett did not want me around then so be it. I would get over it, eventually.

To take my mind off that particular matter I turned my attention to finishing the final chapter of _Heat Wave_. All I had left to do was the final edits and some re-writes before I sent the finished product to Ex-wife Number Two and publisher to do her magic and turn my manuscript into book form and have it ready to be published.

I have to say that I was a little surprised that ex-wife Number Two and publisher was a little more forthcoming and effusive than usual about my latest work. When she had mentioned it I thought she was going come out and praise me in front of her underlings. I should have known better. Before my ego had any chance to inflate, she slapped me down by saying that this book had better be a best-seller or she would be demanding back the publisher's advance. That was the Gina Cowell that I knew and once loved.

My agent Paula Haas was very excited about the book. I had shown her the first half of the manuscript and she had declared it to be one of my best. I have to say that Paula does not get too overly excited about a new book of mine, not like the early days and she prefers to slap me down just in case I get too big headed but she has a good eye for such things, and I valued her opinion. She was already talking about organising a book tour and a whole raft of interviews come publishing day. I was not quite ready to deal with those particular matters.

So with a sense of excitement that I might have a very good book on my hands, I packed up the family and headed for the Hamptons for our annual summer vacation. During the day it was sun and sand, doing the traditional Castle family things, swimming, building sandcastles, that sort of thing. Alexis put up with the traditional Castle family things for a couple of days before she came out and told me that she was a little too old for making sandcastles and she wanted to go out with her friends.

I will admit that it hurt a little bit. I disguised the disappointment by playing the 'cool dad' and told her sure she could go off and catch up with her friends. It was yet another less than subtle reminder that my little girl was growing up rapidly. That life was changing. I was not too sure that I liked it all that much.

It was late at night when Alexis was sleep in bed or having a sleep over with friends and mother was gallivanting around the Hamptons visiting friends, I would venture to my office and think about Beckett's mother's case. Soon I came to the conclusion, that despite Beckett's feelings on the matter, I had done the right thing. I had found some new information about the case. I had found a possible new lead. It consoled me a little bit on those long summer nights.

And I did a bit of writing. I began to flesh out possible new plots for future Nikki Heat novels. When I was doing that I had no idea if there would be any more Nikki Heat books but there was all these ideas and stories floating around in my head that I needed to put down on paper as soon as possible otherwise my head would explode.

It was not as if I was a total recluse, far from it, I attended a few parties here and there. As per usual there were a handful of women who were more than happy to throw themselves at me but for some reason that I could not explain, I found that I was not all that interested.

I am sure Mother must have found that a little odd on those couple of occasions that we attended the same party, considering my performance the year before where I really lived up to my playboy image once my parental duties for the day were over. I do recall Mother giving me a quizzical look or two when she saw me brushing off the latest pneumatic blonde who came up to me gushing that she was my number one fan. Mother did not say anything to me though.

It was at the tail end of the summer holiday when Paula called me to say that she had lined up a big interview with _Cosmopolitan_ that included a photo spread to help publicise _Heat Wave._ I was only too happy to do the interview. Cosmo is a pretty big deal and would go out to a huge readership. I

was okay with the photo shoot but became less keen on it when Paula told me that the magazine wanted to do the shoot at the 12th Precinct. Paula over rode any objection I might have had, like she usually did, by saying that she had run it past the Mayor, and the Big Cheese was all for the interview and photo shoot. It was something about getting good publicity for the NYPD. She also mentioned that Cosmo wanted to interview Detective Beckett. I demurred about that. I did not think Beckett would want to do an interview. Paula told me not to worry about it and then rang off.

A couple of days before the Castle clan packed up their tents to come back to the city Amy Saunders the writer from _Cosmopolitan_ came up to the Hamptons to do the interview. She was a young, petite Asian American woman, aged in her mid twenties with an enthusiastic and gushing attitude that would have been more suited to one of those magazines that targeted the teen market.

On Amy's arrival I gave her a tour of the house and the grounds before we settled down in the living room and got started on with the interview. Amy's enthusiasm was infectious and I suppose I may have big noted myself here and there in answer to some of her questions just to impress her. After about four hours the interview was wound up and I sent a new fan girl on her way. I went back to packing up for the return back to the city.

On returning to the city I tried once more to contact Beckett but all I got was the same result as the last time. I called Captain Montgomery to give him a heads up about the photo shoot. The captain was looking forward to it. He had already been given a heads up by the Big Cheese. We engaged in some small talk asking about each others family and then the Captain asked when I was going to come back into the precinct. I will admit that I told Captain Montgomery a little white lie, I told him that I was kind of busy at the moment with things that prevented me from coming in. I promised him that we would catch up on the day of the photo shoot.

The day of the photo shoot rolled around and I don't think I felt more nervous than I did on that day. I was not concerned about the actual photo shoot, I've done them countless times before and it just becomes second nature even though a great many of them can be long and tiring. What made me nervous was the fact that I would be seeing Detective Beckett again. Because we had not talked since that day in the hospital I was not sure how she would react at seeing me again.

The photo shoot was set down for the afternoon after lunch and at the appointed time I made my appearance in the bullpen. The boys were happy to see me, greeting me almost like a long lost brother. I'm sure they were also happy to see the two models that had been hired for the photo shoot.

Beckett greeted me cordially and I thought I saw a hint of a smile but perhaps that was wishful thinking on my part. I was a little relieved to see that she was not angry at me just very cool. I could live with that.

I was quickly commandeered by one of the photographer's assistants and dumped in a director's chair and had some one dusting my face with a light coat of makeup. There was then a bit of a discussion about the suit I was wearing until another assistant said that what I was wearing was fine. Soon I was directed to the area that had been set aside for the actual shoot.

The two models hired for the photo shoot, a blonde and a brunette were dressed in black stripper-cop uniforms and there were a couple of posters for _Heat Wave_ in the background. Pretty soon I and the two girls were striking the pose and doing what ever the photographer wanted us to do.

While I was doing all of this and having the two girls hanging off me and looking as sexy as all get out, I could not help but notice the look of disapproval on the face of Detective Beckett. Dare I say it, she looked a little disgusted at all the goings on in the bullpen. Her attention was drawn away from what I was doing back to Amy Saunders who was sitting in my chair to do the interview with her.

"What's so special about world famous mystery novelist Richard Castle?" Amy enthused. "He's rich, he's handsome and he's basing his next best seller on you. Tell me, Detective Beckett, what's it like being the inspiration for thrill-master Richard Castle's new character, Nikki Heat?"

Beckett looked a little uncomfortable having a microphone shoved in her face. She glanced at it before lifting her gaze to Amy and offered up a small strained smile.

"On behalf of the NYPD, it has been a pleasure to offer Mr Castle insight into the profession." Kate replied carefully, if a little stiffly.

"Given all his best sellers, it's obvious Mr Castle has tremendous insight into the criminal mind." Amy gushed. "I'm told on many occasions, his participation was essential to solving your toughest cases."

"Really?" Beckett frowned at the young reporter. "You were told that?"

Amy nodded her head. Beckett frowned.

"By who?" She demanded.

"By Castle."

Beckett frowned even more at that piece of news. Glancing away from young Amy, Beckett caught sight of Captain Montgomery walking through the bullpen. She quickly turned back to the reporter and gave her a brief apologetic smile.

"Could you excuse me?"

Before Amy could respond, Beckett was out of her chair and collaring the Captain.

"Sir, could I talk to you in private for a moment, please?"

"Beckett, I have a couple..."

"Now." Beckett snapped before she marched into the Captain's office.

Captain Montgomery moved to stand behind his desk and watched as Beckett paced the floor back and forth a couple of times.

"We had a deal, Beckett." Captain Montgomery informed her.

The Captain did not have to ask Beckett the reasons for this little private chat. He had guessed merely from the look on her face.

"The deal is off." Beckett said, stopping her pacing to look at the Captain.

"What's the problem?"

"Not only does he have the bachelor party cop twins out there using him a stripper pole while I make nicey-nice with the press, but do you know what he said?" Beckett said as she waved her hand in the direction where my ruggedly handsome face was being photographed.

"No." Captain Montgomery ventured.

"He said that he has been instrumental in helping us solve crimes."

Captain Montgomery was a little surprised by his best detective's outburst.

"Well, hasn't he?" he said.

The good captain was very wise not to bring up that particular moment not all that long ago when Beckett herself had told him that the mob murder would not have been solved with out my help. Mind you my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life continues to maintain she has no recollection of ever having said that but, I digress.

Faced with the truth of the matter she might just might have dug herself into a hole, Beckett reined in the tirade that she was ready to unleash.

"That's not the point." She said through gritted teeth.

"Do you know how hard it is for NYPD to get good press? I mean, in a magazine people actually read?" Captain Montgomery said. "This article is very important to the mayor, therefore we are going to cooperate. Do I make myself clear?"

"Okay, fine." Beckett sighed, knowing when she was defeated.

Still, she did not look too pleased when she walked out of the captain's office.

For the above I have to thank the late Captain Montgomery who filled me in on what had happened when I wandered into his office when the photo shoot was finished to thank him for allowing the precinct to be used for the photo shoot.

XXX

It was early evening when the boys were in the break room getting a coffee as was Beckett. One of the models was there getting herself a soda from the dispensing machine. Detective Ryan was ogling her and it would have been a lot funnier if his tongue was hanging out. Beckett started making herself a coffee, ignoring the looks the boys were giving the model as she was walking out of the break room.

"We should have photo shoots more often." Ryan remarked wistfully.

"Hey, Beckett." Esposito said turning to look at her. "How come you don't dress like that?"

"Because I don't want to be paid in singles." Beckett shot back.

It was at that moment I stuck my head in the break room.

"Hey." I said.

"Oh hey." Ryan said turning to his partner. "Don't we have that thing?"

"No." His partner replied unhelpfully.

"Yeah, you know, that thing with the guy?" Ryan said

Beckett turned and levelled a look in Esposito's direction. Esposito took the hint.

"Oh, yeah, the thing..." He said.

"Yeah, excuse us." Ryan said, as he and his partner exited the break room from another door leaving Beckett and I alone.

I could not help but grin at Ryan's efforts but if you want to clear the room, nothing does it faster than one of Beckett's patented Death Glares.

"I just wanted you to know that I had nothing to do with this." I said hesitantly. "I mean, it was the magazine. Well, the mayor thought it would be good publicity."

"You don't have to explain yourself." Beckett told me.

"Really?" I was more than a little surprised by what she had just said.

"Really. See, I don't care anymore." Beckett said dismissively. She picked up her coffee and cast a look at me. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an interview to get back to."

Beckett brushed past me as she made her way back to her desk. I was not going to leave it like that. I couldn't. I followed her.

"What did I do that was so wrong?" I asked in a low voice.

"The one thing I asked you not to do." Beckett retorted, also in a low voice.

"Okay, so you asked me not to look into your mother's murder." I conceded. I still felt a pang of guilt. Suddenly I brightened. "But look at what I found."

"It doesn't matter what you found. I put that all behind me a long time ago."

Definitely still not forgiven. We had reached Beckett's desk where Amy was still waiting. Beckett turned on a pleasant smile for the young reporter.

"We can get back to the interview now." Beckett told her.

"Nope, you're going to have reschedule." Esposito announced as he walked up to her desk. "We just caught a body."

"So sorry to step out on you, Amy." Beckett said apologetically but looking anything but.

"Oh, are you kidding?" Amy said excitedly. "Its perfect. A chance to see Castle in action. Our readers will love it."

Beckett had her mouth open to offer another apology but it appeared that the Universe had turned against her because right at that moment Captain Montgomery walked up to her desk.

"Well, we wouldn't want to disappoint your readers now, would we detective?" Captain Montgomery said pointedly.

The smile that had threatened to break across Beckett's face had second thoughts and quickly turned tail and fled to the hills. She shot a glare in the direction of the captain before she turned it full on at me. I might not have helped matters but smirking at her. Right that moment I didn't care. This was my chance to get back into her good graces, and I was going to do anything and everything to do so.

Beckett gathered herself up and gritted out an 'of course not sir'.

XXX

Because I was still in the Beckett Bad Books I did not get to ride with her to the scene of the murder. Instead I had to catch a ride with Esposito and Ryan and had to endure an interrogation from the boys about what had I done to have Beckett to have so angry at me. I was not about to tell the boys that I had found some new information on Beckett's mother's case, that was something between me and her. I defaulted to my usual response, I feigned ignorance. I'm not really sure they bought that, they're detectives after all. Thankfully Ryan managed to change the subject by bringing up the topic of the bachelor party cop twins, and his wish that there should be more photo shoots in the precinct. I promised to mention his request to my publicist.

It was getting on in the evening when we arrived at the crime scene. I got out of the car almost before it had come to a stop and raced over to Beckett who had driven down to the scene on her own. All ready the street had been blocked off by uniforms and the ME and CSU people were on the scene. Several banks of powerful spotlights had been set up and switched on to provide illumination of the crime scene.

"Hey, can we talk about this please?" I said, when I caught up to Beckett as we crossed the street and approached where the body had been found.

"There's nothing to talk about." Beckett replied.

"Well, you could at least let me know what I can do to make it up to you."

"You could leave me alone." Beckett said firmly.

"Yes, well, I tried that, and it didn't work." I replied. I was desperate to get back into her good graces. Suddenly I had an idea. "Hey, I could buy you a pony!"

Did I mention I was desperate to get back into Beckett's good graces?

Beckett scrunched up her face in that adorable way she does on hearing my offer.

"Focus, Castle." Beckett said. "Crime scene, okay?"

We reached the side walk and looked up at the tree. Esposito and Ryan joined us and were straining their necks to where the body had landed. The body had wedged itself in the vee of a pair of thick branches. A cherry picker had been brought up close to the tree and the platform had been raised up to where the body was situated. Standing on the platform was Medical Examiner Dr Lanie Parish. She was attached to a safety harness as she busily jotted down notes on her clipboard.

"It's raining men." I quipped as I stared up at the body.

Dr Parish paused in her note taking, shielded her eyes from the glare of the spotlights and peered down. She did not look pleased.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" She demanded.

"Don't worry. We're still mad at him." Beckett called up to her friend.

"A guy in a tree, Mom and Dad bickering." Ryan remarked to his partner. "Seems like old times."

"Mm-mmm" Esposito replied.

"How's it going up there?" Beckett asked.

"I got tree branches poking my boobs and spotlights shining up my booty." Lanie replied.

"Could be worse. You could be wearing a skirt." Esposito remarked, a smirk on his face.

Lanie stopped writing and glared down at us and in particular the Hispanic detective standing beside me.

"When I come down, I'm gonna smack you."

"I'll be looking forward to that." Esposito said, grinning.

Lanie regarded Esposito a moment before she picked up a wallet and tossed it down to Esposito who caught the object effortlessly.

"Vic's a white male, late thirties." Lanie reported. "Judging from the cracked branches, I'm guessing he did a Superman off the top of that building." Lanie pointed to the three storey apartment building behind the tree.

Esposito had opened the wallet that Lanie had thrown to him and inspected it.

"Vic's name is John Allen. ID has him on the Upper West Side. Business card has him in insurance." Esposito informed us.

Amy Saunders came to join our group and spoke for the first time.

"Is it a suicide?" She asked.

"It's not a suicide." Beckett and I said simultaneously.

Beckett and I shared a momentary look of surprise at having spoken at the same time, and having said the same thing. That was a little spooky. Little did I know at the time that this would become one of our 'things'.

"How do you know?" Amy asked.

"The building is too short." Beckett informed her. "He'd want to kill himself, not cripple himself."

"If you want to die, you're going to aim for concrete not a tree." I added. Pausing a moment I studied the building behind the tree. "Judging from the angle of descent, I'd say he was thrown off the building."

"Since it clearly wasn't a suicide, how did he die?" Beckett asked Lanie.

"There are signs of strangulation. It looks like his windpipe was crushed." Lanie replied.

"Any ligature marks?"

"Nope." Lanie said simply.

I looked across to Amy.

"Ligature refers to anything that ties or binds, like a rope or a belt." I informed her. "The lack of any marks suggests that he was strangled by hand."

"Wow, you really know your stuff." Amy gushed. "No wonder they like having you around."

I felt a hand on my shoulder and found it belonged to Beckett. There was a look in her eye that I could not quite fathom.

"You know what?" She said. "He's such an incredible resource it seems like a shame to waste his talents here in the field." Beckett glanced at Amy before turning her attention back to me.

"Would you mind going back to the morgue with Dr Parish to see what else you can find out about the vic?"

"Don't you think I'd be of more use here at the crime scene?" I said.

"Oh, no." Beckett replied, a small humourless smile on her face as she looked at me. "We're just going to knock on doors and see what else we can stir up. You know, boring police stuff."

I got the message even though I did not like it. I was not about to make a scene right in front of everyone.

"Fine." I conceded. I leaned close to Beckett before speaking again. "I was serious about the pony."

I moved across to where Amy was standing.

"Come on, I'll show you the umm...morgue mobile." I said.

It took more than a few minutes for Lanie's people to get the body of John Allen down from the tree and on to a guerney and bring it over to the morgue-mobile. To kill a bit of time I answered a few questions that Amy threw at me and showed her the morgue-mobile.

A couple of morgue people came up with the body and loaded it into the back of the morgue-mobile.

"You mean we have to ride with the body?" Amy said, going a little pale.

I must say that Amy was shocked at the thought of having to ride in the back with the body of the victim. This was not the way to becoming a top notch journalist, you go white as a sheet at the thought of having to ride in the back of a van with a dead body. If she was to ask me for career advice I would have told her to go for the teen magazines where they dissect everything the members of the latest hot boy band to hit the charts say and do.

"You can take my seat up the front." Lanie told her, giving her one of those fake sweet smiles.

"You sure?" Amy asked hesitantly.

"Mmm, I'm used to hanging out with stiffs."

Lanie again gave young Amy one of those overly sweet, friendly fake smiles and the second Amy headed for the front seat, Lanie dropped the smile and shot me a look that would have frozen the fires of Hell itself before she turned and climbed into the back of the van. I mentally shook off the icicles and climbed in as well.

A couple of minutes later the morgue mobile was rolling, heading back to the morgue. It was a little uncomfortable riding in the back of the van feeling Lanie's angry glare on me. I had been staring into space for a few moments before I lifted my gaze and turned to look at Lanie.

"Hi." I said.

"Uh-uh, you don't get to say 'hi' to me." Lanie shot back. "I'm just doing my girlfriend a favour."

"Oh, you too, huh?" I said with a sigh.

I was not surprised that Lanie was backing her friend Beckett. It told me that Beckett had spoken to someone about what I had done.

"Well, what do you expect?" Lanie said. "Beckett spent the first three years of being a cop trying to solve her mother's murder. It took everything that she had to put it behind her. You couldn't respect that?"

"What was I supposed to do? Not tell her what I found?" I replied.

"What you found?" Lanie frowned.

"Oh, she didn't tell you, did she?" I said.

Beckett may have spoken to Lanie about this matter but from the look on Lanie's face it was clear to me that Beckett had not told her everything.

"Three people were killed the same way her mother was, right about the same time." I said. "One of them was a former law student of hers, another was a documents clerk. The third was a lawyer for a non-profit."

Lanie considered what I had said for a moment before she looked over to me.

"Wait, the ME at the time didn't make the connection?"

"If he did, he buried it." I said.

"Did you talk to him?" Lanie asked.

"He died four years ago." I looked at Lanie. "So, you see why I had to tell her."

"What did she say?"

"That we were done." I said dejectedly. "And then she just..."

I never got to finish the sentence because there was an all mighty bang as steel impacted steel with an ear splitting screech. The force of the collision had both Lanie and me tumbling out of our seats and onto the floor of the morgue-mobile. There was a screech of tyres.

On the floor of the morgue-mobile I was still struggling to come to terms with what just happened and looking to see that Lanie was alright when the back door of the van was flung open by a masked man brandishing an assault rifle.

"Don't move! Don't move!" The masked man shouted as he waved the rifle about.

"Whoa!" I said as I stared up at the masked man.

The masked man jumped into the van and grabbed hold of the body and started pulling on it. I noticed there were two other masked men standing by the doors ready to take hold of the body that Masked Man Number One was dragging towards them.

Masked Man Number Two and Masked Man Number Three grabbed the body on either side and lifted it.

"Go! Go!" Masked Man Number One shouted.

The other two masked men dragged the body over to a waiting car that had pulled up to the morgue-mobile and dumped the body in the trunk of the car. One of the masked men slammed the lid of the trunk down and both men jumped into the car.

"Don't move!" Masked Man Number One warned as he back out of the van.

He jumped off the van and dashed over to the car. With a loud screech of tyres the car sped off.

Slowly I turned to look to a visibly stunned Lanie.

"Is it just me, or was that really weird?" I asked.

XXX

Thankfully no one was hurt, shaken up yes, but not hurt. Once the initial shock had faded a little I looked across to Lanie. She too was on the floor. I scrambled over to where she was and helped her up. She assured me that she was fine when I asked her the usual question, 'if she was alright'

Amy Saunders was a little more shaken than the rest of us. Lanie was able to settle her down before she became hysterical. The driver of the morgue mobile was also unharmed. Within minutes a couple of police cruisers showed up to the scene to handle traffic and to make sure we were okay.

Not far behind the police cruisers were the boys, Esposito and Ryan. They wore looks of concern as they got out of their car and when they saw that none of us were hurt, their concern turned to relief. I gave Esposito a statement of what had transpired, while Ryan handled Lanie and Amy.

After Esposito had finished taking my statement he stepped away and made a call to the precinct. I don't know who he spoke to because he did not tell me when I asked him after he had finished up with the call. I could hazard a guess who had been calling.

The boys gave Lanie and me a lift back to the precinct. In the bullpen Captain Montgomery wanted Lanie to give me a quick once over. I assured him and the guys that I was fine, that there was nothing to worry about but the captain insisted. I suspect he might have been a little worried about any repercussions from up on high if there was something wrong with me.

Propping myself I allowed Lanie to conduct a quick examination. She produced one of those little flashlights and checked my pupils.

"Well?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"He'll live." Lanie concluded. Then she flicked my ear which made me jump a little.

"What, no brain damage?" Ryan inquired, unable to hide his smirk.

"If he has some, it happened way before tonight and was possibly self-inflicted." Lanie concluded.

I could not help but smile as I made a quick dash memory lane.

"Ah, good times." I said wistfully.

"How's Lois Lane?" The captain asked.

"Who, reporter chick?" Ryan said. Captain Montgomery nodded his head. "We took her statement and we sent her home."

The Captain nodded his head again.

"We got an APB on the sedan, CSUs are combing the rooftop, and we got unis looking for surveillance footage at the crash site." Ryan reported.

"You know, what I don't get is, who would steal a dead body?" Esposito said.

Now this was an area that I was reasonably knowledgeable about and was more than happy to impart some of that knowledge to the guys, which I did not hesitate to do.

"Oh, plenty of people." I said. "Organ harvesters, cadaver-less med students, Satanists, mad scientists looking to create their own monster."

"Or the guys who killed him might have left some evidence behind." Beckett suggested.

She had snuck behind me silently and I was a touch startled when she had spoken. I glanced behind me.

"Boring." I told her quickly before I turned back to the the boys, Captain Montgomery and Lanie and continued with my theory. "How about a spy having swallowed a top secret microchip that the enemy forces murder him over before the CIA can get a hold of him?"

I will admit that I was expecting a much better response to my theories than the one I got from the guys. From Captain Montgomery and Lanie I got blank looks, a frown from Esposito and a smirk from Ryan. It was worth at least an eye roll, at least I thought so.

"As much as we all appreciate your insightful and incredibly believable theories, Ms Cosmo is gone, so I believe you can go home now." Beckett announced.

It never fails to surprise me how much sarcasm can drip from Beckett's dulcet voice.

I eased off the desk I was leaning against and moved to where Beckett was standing.

"Home?" I said. I did not like the idea of being sent home. "No, no, no...this case just good. And I'm a witness."

I looked over to where Captain was standing, shooting him a pleading look. Beckett also looked over to the Captain. Captain Montgomery, bless him, gave Beckett the kind of look that said: 'you'd better say yes'.

When Beckett turned back to look at me. I saw that she did not look very pleased that she had been over ruled by her captain. She got into my personal space as she fixed me with a hard stare.

"Alright." She said. "I'll let you work this case with me if you promise to leave me alone when it's over and not to weasel your way back in."

"Deal." I said. I took a breath and spoke again. "But fair warning Detective. I will make you change your mind."

Did I mention that I was desperate to get back into her good graces?

"I won't." Beckett said firmly.

"You will." I assured her.

The look she gave me said that there was no way she was going to change her mind. That was alright with me. I could work with that. Detective Beckett had never encountered the full onslaught of the Castle charm. There were few women alive who could resist the full onslaught of the Richard Castle charm. Already I was summoning the forces to battle.

"So, what's the next step?" I asked. "Victim's family?"

From out of the corner of my eye I caught sight Esposito and Ryan exchange a look. I then saw Ryan shake his head as he handed over some money to his now smiling partner. If I did not know any better I would have sworn that the boys were betting on whether Beckett would take me back or not.

XXXXX

_**There you have it, dear reader, the first instalment of the first case of the second volume of the Castle Case Files. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought of it, I'd like to hear from you.**_

_**Just to let you know, I will be publishing these case files in five case blocks.**_

_**Con **_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Case of Deep In Death

Part 2

It was a little frosty inside Beckett's car as we made our journey to the Upper West Side. Beckett was still cool towards me. The subject of her mother's case was a definite no-go area so I chose to open a new front. I returned to my 'insightful and incredibly believable theories', and spun a few more just to bring the temperature up a little bit. I ventured the theory that the victim was an agent for a foreign government and he had been murdered by another foreign government.

That particular theory did receive a Beckett eye roll. Encouraged by that small victory, I offered a few other thoughts. I wont bore you with them all of them but a couple did include involvement of one or more three letter government agencies. My theorising was brought to an abrupt halt when Beckett threatened to shoot me. I claim that as a victory as well. At least Beckett was talking to me.

We arrived at John Allen's apartment and knocked on the front door. The door was opened by Sandy Allen, the wife and now the widow of Allen. She was a blonde haired woman aged in her mid thirties. She greeted us with an inquisitive look that turned to concern the moment Beckett produced her badge and introduced us and said that we here about her husband.

Beckett broke the news of her husband's death as gently and compassionately as possible. It never failed to surprise me how she handled such news to the bereaved loved ones. As you would expect

the news that we broke to Sandy Allen brought forth shock and tears. Beckett gave her all the time in the world to let the news sink before she started on the inevitable and necessary questions.

"He was just right here, just a couple of hours ago, and now he's dead." Sandy said sniffling back a fresh round of tears that threatened.

"Do you know why he would be in that part of town?" Beckett inquired.

In informing Sandy Allen about her husband's death Beckett had also told her where he had been found.

"No." Sandy shook her head. "His office is in Midtown. It's nowhere near 9th."

"What time did he leave the apartment?"

"Around six." Sandy replied. "He'd just gotten back from his trip and he said he needed to catch up on some paperwork. He said he'd be gone for a couple of hours."

"You said, a trip?" I said.

Sandy nodded her head. "He was in Albuquerque on a training seminar. It was just two nights."

"Did you notice anything unusual?" Beckett asked. "Any strange behaviour?"

"Well he...he had to work late a little more often than usual." Sandy replied. "I mean, in this economy, who doesn't? He had to lay off half his department last year."

"And you're sure he was working late?" I questioned, gently.

I felt it was a legitimate question as we had not ruled out the cheating spouse angle yet. Having been on the receiving end of a cheating spouse, I had begun to suspect when the now Ex-Wife Number One began to 'work late' all too many times until that I walked in on her and her director. Perhaps Sandy might have had suspicions about her husband. So I lobbed the question at her.

"What are you saying? That he was cheating?" Sandy said angrily.

I was not surprised by Sandys flash of anger. I half expected it.

"Every night, he would walk through that door." Sandy said, pointing to the front door. "The kids would just race into his arms, okay? And now he's gone. So don't ask me if was really working late. Tell me why he was killed."

"He did not mean to imply..." Beckett said soothingly, after she shot me an angry look.

"What about phone calls? Maybe late at night?" I barrelled on.

"Castle." Beckett hissed, shooting me an accompanying glare.

"Yeah, yeah. One of the guys that John had fired, Max Haverstock." Sandy informed us, the heat of her anger having cooled.

I refrained from looking smug at this piece of news Sandy revealed to us. Now was not the time for gloating.

"He would call him up late at night and he would yell at him and all sorts of things." Sandy continued. "I guess he was hurting, he needed money. I told John that he should just hang up on him but John said no, he couldn't do that."

"Did he ever give him money?" Beckett asked, her momentary displeasure at my questioning methods forgotten.

"My husband didn't believe in hand outs." Sandy declared. "He believed a man should make his way." Sandy paused and looked at Beckett and myself. "Where is he? I would like to say goodbye."

Beckett and I exchanged uncomfortable looks. For what seemed like an eternity both Beckett and I floundered as we struggled to come up with a response to Sandy Allen's question. Thankfully Beckett came to the rescue by drawing Sandy over to a chair, sat her down and then explained to her in the most gentle way she could about what had happened to her husband's body.

A few minutes later we stepped into the hallway and the door to the Allen's apartment shut behind us.

"That was awkward." I remarked.

Beckett made a noise and nodded her head in agreement.

"It just doesn't make any sense." Beckett mused aloud as we started walking in the direction of the elevator. "The guy's got a stable, middle class life. Good job, good family."

"Maybe his friend Max was jealous?" I suggested.

"Yeah, maybe enough to kill him, but steal his body?"

Beckett pulled out her phone and hit a speed dial number. It was answered very rapidly.

"Hey Esposito, I need you to look up a friend of the vic, Max Haverstock." Beckett ordered.

While Beckett was calling Esposito I called for the elevator, and it arrived with surprising alacrity.

Beckett and I entered the elevator. Glancing at me Beckett saw that I was standing a little too close to her and she purposely took a couple of steps away from me, then turned to face the doors. She did not see the look of disappointment that scrolled across my face at her action.

"Okay, find him and bring him in." Beckett ordered and then rang off.

The disappointment did not last all that long because by the time we had reached the ground lobby the disappointed look had gone from my face. I reminded myself that Operation Get Back In Beckett's Good Books would not be won with a single battle. And yes, I had christened the effort to get back in her good books, 'Operation Get Back In Beckett's Good Books'. What, you expected any less from me?

As it was getting late and there was not a great deal we could do until Max Haverstock had been found, rounded up and hauled into the precinct to answer questions Beckett dropped me off home. Before jumping out of the car I wished her a good night and added a hopeful 'until tomorrow'. I received a cordial 'Night, Castle' in return. I will claim that as a small victory as well.

XXX

I entered the loft and closed the front door. Moments later I was accosted by a red headed whirl wind that came from the kitchen.

"Dad. Thank God you're home. Are you okay?" Alexis said as she wrapped me in a hug.

I was a little surprised by her sudden excitement.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" I said shooting a confused look in Mother's direction when she came out of the kitchen.

"Fine?" Alexis said stepping back to look at me. "Masked gunmen, body-snatchers? I texted you like a thousand times."

I suddenly felt a little guilty. In all of the excitement of what happened when the morgue-mobile had been crashed into and the body snatched and then visiting the widow Allen, I had forgotten all about my two favourite red heads at home.

"Oh I'm sorry." I said as I reached for my phone. "My phone must have been switched off."

Seeing the phone was off, I remembered that I had switched it off during the photo shoot and then had forgotten to switch it back on.

"How...how did you know?" I asked.

"Beckett called." Alexis announced.

That caused my eyebrows to rise a little in surprise. I looked to Mother.

"She just wanted to let us know that you were alright." Mother explained.

While I was surprised that Beckett had done that I was also a little touched that she would have done that despite the fact that she was still mad at me. I could not help but smile at the thought. I made my way to my office with my two favourite red heads in tow.

"So, has she forgiven you?" Mother enquired.

"Uh, not exactly, Mother." I replied. "But I'm working on it. She has agreed to let me help on the case."

"Well, that's a start, I suppose." Mother said hopefully.

I propped myself against my table.

"It's more than a start. It's an opportunity." I said. "She may have built a wall between us, but I'm going to build a door in that wall, or put up a ladder, or dig a hole."

"You have a strategy?" Mother asked.

"Be my usual charming self." I grinned.

"Uh-huh." Mother said giving me a funny looking smile. "What about Plan B?"

The grin on my face slipped a little bit at my Mother's less than enthusiastic belief that I would be able to get back into Beckett's good graces. I had not told her about Operation Get Back Into Beckett's Good Books. Even so, I could not believe my mother's lack of faith in my abilities.

"So was it awful? Were you scared?" Alexis asked.

"Me, scared? No way, come on." I said with a little exaggeration. "Now excuse me while I change my shorts."

"Dad." Alexis admonished.

"No, I was scared." I confessed, truthfully. "But all they were after was the body."

"Why?"

"Why indeed." I mused. I checked my phone messages and started reading them out aloud. "'Dad, where are you?' 'Dad are you all right?' 'Dad call us right away'...'Dad, can I go see _Fame_ with Owen on Friday?'"

I glanced at my now embarrassed daughter. "Your concern is touching." I remarked drily.

"Okay, that one was after I knew you were all right." Alexis said apologetically.

I experienced a little pang of disappointment.

"Yeah, but I thought we were going to see it together?" I said.

"We were, and we still can but he invited me to go see it with him Friday." Alexis replied.

"You'd rather go with your boyfriend than your Dad? What is wrong with you?"

"If you really want me to go with you, I will." Alexis offered.

"No, no. You tell Owen he has won this round, but I got dibs on _A Christmas Carol_." I said with a smile.

"Thanks Dad." Alexis came up and gave me a hug. "I'm glad you weren't killed by body-snatchers."

"Me too." I agreed.

Alexis gave me a quick kiss and then left the office.

"They remade _Fame_ and _A Christmas Carol_. Has Hollywood totally run out of ideas?" Mother said despairingly.

"Well they just optioned, _Asteroids_, the video game so my guess is yes." I replied before giving her a smile. "But Ryan Reynolds is playing the wee triangle, and he's good."

Mother gave me a look and a shake of her head before she departed from the office. I eased myself off the edge of the desk and walked around it to fall into the chair. I booted up the laptop so that I could make some notes about the day's events.

I could not keep the small smile from my face. So Detective Beckett had called my family to let them know that I was all right? She had not even mentioned it to me that she had done it either. It revealed what kind of person she really was. I had a feeling that the charm offensive was starting to work.

XXX

Mid morning the next day I was standing in the observation room. Also in the room with me was Beckett and Esposito. All three of us were peering through the window into the interrogation room and watching the man in there pacing back and forth.

Max Haverstock was a balding, middle aged man dressed in a rumpled business suit. If he was not wearing glasses he still would have looked nerdy. In fact I got the distinct impression that he was a perfect example of what youthful nerds would look like when they hit middle age.

"Are you sure this is the guy?" I asked incredulously.

"Maxwell Haverstock." Esposito assured us. "And he confirmed he knew the vic."

"This guy couldn't throw a wet sponge off the roof, let alone a body." I replied.

I glanced in Beckett's direction and from the look on her face I got the impression she was silently agreeing with my assessment. She gave me a nod of the head and made for the door. I followed her out of the observation room.

Beckett opened the door to the interrogation room and strode in. I followed, closed the door behind me and took up a position beside the two way mirror behind Beckett.

"Mr Haverstock?" Beckett said as she stood on the other side of the table.

"Yes?" Haverstock replied.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No, uh, they just told me I needed to come in."

"It's about John Allen." Beckett informed him. "He was murdered last night."

The look of curiosity that he had been wearing on his face changed to one of shock and surprise.

"That's terrible." He said.

"You and he were friends?" Beckett asked.

"We had adjoining cubicles."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Oh, uh, not since D-Day." Haverstock replied. "That's what we called it. You know, 'D' for 'downsizing."

"You were let go?"

Haverstock nodded his head. "Yeah."

"I bet that made you pretty angry."

The sad and shocked expression on Haverstock's face suddenly changed to that of anger.

"Yeah. Fifteen years we worked together, you know." Haverstock said heatedly. "You think it would mean something. You'd think that loyalty would be worth something. You know what's it worth? A kick in the teeth!"

"Did you ever call John and tell him that?" Beckett asked.

As I watched Beckett interrogate Max Haverstock the old saying; 'Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly' kept going through my head. It is always fascinating to watch Beckett as she interrogates a suspect. Haverstock had no idea, I could not help but grin.

"Oh, yeah, all the time." Haverstock confessed angrily. "Yeah I told him that we didn't deserve to be treated like that. But I promised him one day the worm would turn, because Karma is a nasty little bitch!"

"Is that why you killed him?" Beckett pressed.

"Who?" Haverstock said looking confused.

"John."

"Why would I want to kill John?" Haverstock's confusion deepened.

"For firing you."

"He didn't fire me." Haverstock replied. "We were let go together on D-Day. Uh...fortunately I was able to find another job."

"He didn't have a job?"

I did not need to see Beckett's face to know that she was surprised by this sudden turn of events. I could hear it in her voice. I was just as surprised as she was let me tell you.

"I guess he, uh, doesn't have to look for one anymore." Haverstock said quietly.

Beckett recovered from the surprise of the revelation that John Allen did not have a job. She motioned to Haverstock to sit and she did the same. She got him to write out his statement.

XXX

I was walking through the bullpen heading for Beckett's desk when Esposito rose from his desk after having finished a telephone call. Ryan also got up and all three of us approached Beckett's desk.

"Yo, Beckett." Esposito said. "Story checks. John Allen was laid off eight months ago when the AIG crisis hit."

Beckett frowned at that piece of news. At least I think she frowned at the news, she could have been frowning at me when I perched myself against the side of her desk. I'm going with the former.

"What about Albuquerque?" She asked.

"No record of a John Allen coming back from any flight in the Tri-State area." Ryan reported.

"Well, makes you wonder what else he lied to his wife about." I remarked.

"And how he paid his bills." Beckett added before she reached for her ringing cell phone.

A surprised look crossed her face as she listened to the caller.

"Thank you." She said as she rang off. She looked up at us. "They found his body...again."

This time as we all headed for the location where the body of John Allen had been found, Beckett allowed me to ride with her. I can't tell you how happy I was with this little concession on Beckett's part. I could not help myself, on the ride over I began to speculate why the body-snatchers had dumped the body. I threw out the theory that they had finished whatever experiments that they had been conducting and didn't need it any more. That earned me one Beckett's patented eye rolls. Then I suggested that the government had retrieved the top secret micro chip and didn't need the body any longer. I suspected that Beckett was beginning to regret allowing me to ride with her but to her credit she refrained from telling me to shut up.

The body was located at the far end of a dead end alley. There were a number of police cars and Lanie's morgue-mobile parked near the entrance of the alley. Beckett got out of the car and I followed suit. Accompanied by Ryan and Esposito we all walked down the length of the alley where Lanie was crouched beside the sheet covered body of John Allen. I could not help notice that there was a large red circle above the torso area.

"What happened?" Beckett said when we reached Lanie.

The medical examiner did not answer immediately. She was in the process of placing a bloodied rubber glove into an evidence bag. When she put away the evidence bag she looked up at us.

"Someone operated on him." She announced.

"Operated?" Beckett queried.

"They cut him open and took all his organs out."

Lanie lifted up the sheet for us to see what the body-snatchers had done to John Allen's body. There was a collective groan from all four of us. Beckett even turned away for a moment which gives you an idea how gruesome it looked. And, no I am not going to describe what they had done. Trust me when I say it was gruesome. Gruesome or not, I simply could not help myself, I had to make a remark.

"Somebody hated his guts."

Beckett turned her head to look at me. She gave me an eye roll. I thought I saw the corners of her mouth twitch, as if she wanted to smile or at least grin but she did not. She managed to control the urge. She shook her head before she got down to business. She ordered Ryan and Esposito to canvass the area to see if anyone saw anything. Lanie could not give us much until she could get the body to the morgue and conduct an autopsy.

XXX

Several hours later Beckett and I were in the morgue with Lanie and the body of John Allen laying on a slab in the middle of the room. Lanie had finished the autopsy and had called us down to hear what she had found out.

"The guys who did this weren't surgeons." Lanie informed us. "The cuts are sloppy. Box cutters and kitchen knives."

"Any idea what they were looking for?" Beckett asked.

"I ran a tox screen and found nothing in the blood stream. But in the body cavity itself there were trace amounts of powder cocaine."

"He was their drug mule." Beckett declared.

"Guess they couldn't wait for him to pass the packets the old fashioned way." Lanie remarked.

"I don't buy it." I announced.

Both Beckett and Lanie turned to look at me. Beckett's eyebrows were raised in a questioning look.

"How does a middle aged insurance actuary with no history of substance abuse, no criminal record, become a drug mule?" I questioned. "I mean, this was not a bad guy. You don't just fill out an ad on Craigslist. You got to..."

As I was speaking I casually placed by hand on the corpse's sheet covered leg. I shuddered a little as I quickly removed my hand from the body. Beckett rolled her eyes at me.

"You got to know people." I resumed. "Bad people."

"As freaky as all this is, let's not forget this happened post mortem." Lanie reminded us. "The actual cause of death is up here."

Lanie moved along the table and used her pen to indicate the neck. Beckett moved up to take a closer look. I did the same moving to stand on the other side of Lanie.

"The bruise pattern indicates the assailant strangled with both hands." She said.

As I studied the bruise pattern on the body's neck, I noticed something.

"The bruising is a little lighter here." I said pointing to the lowest bruise on the neck which was shorter than the other bruise lines.

"What would account for that?" Beckett asked.

"Dislocated or broken finger, maybe." Lanie surmised.

I had a better theory and was not backwards in coming forwards in voicing it.

"Maybe he's fancy." I suggested. "He strangles people with his pinky sticking out."

I put my fingers together mimicking the action of strangling someone's neck and I had my pinky finger sticking out. Both Lanie and Beckett said nothing. They stared at me stone faced.

"Like tea." I added.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at my theory. Lanie merely remained stone faced. Beckett collected the preliminary autopsy report from Lanie before we left the morgue and headed back to the precinct.

XXX

Beckett and I were studying the murder board. Beckett had made a few more additions to the information we already had on the board but even with the new information, there was nothing that was leaping off it to point us to who the murderer was.

Esposito came over and joined us. He had a small smile grin on his face.

"Just got off the phone with Homeland Security." He announced. "Passport records indicate John Allen was coming back from Mexico, not New Mexico."

A smile appeared on Beckett's face. She nodded her head.

"No criminal history, healthy, white, middle class. They wouldn't have looked at him twice at customs." She said.

"The guy had skills. Why would he do something so stupid?" Esposito questioned.

At that moment Ryan came and joined our little group. He carried with him some papers.

"Because he had to." Ryan said in answer to Esposito's question. "I just went over financials with the wife."

"How bad?" Beckett asked.

Ryan handed over the papers he had brought with him and Beckett quickly skimmed through them.

"They've been living on credit cards the last six months." Ryan informed us. "She had no idea. She thought everything was fine."

Beckett looked up from the papers she had been looking through.

"Well, if he wasn't going to work every day, where was he going?" She asked.

"Applying for jobs. I found hundreds of cover letters and resumes on his computer."

"I don't understand." Beckett frowned. "Why didn't they just sell their apartment?"

"Wasn't worth the mortgage." Ryan shrugged.

"That's harsh." Esposito shook his head.

"Life Insurance?" I asked.

"Stopped payments four months ago." Ryan said just as his phone started ringing. "The guy was basically worthless, alive or dead." He moved off to answer his phone.

I turned from the murder board to look at Beckett.

"You know, I get desperation, I get needing the money." I said slowly. "I even get being a drug mule. What I don't get is, where did he get the job?"

These musing of mine resulted in Beckett creasing her face with a frown as she gave thought to what I had just said.

Ryan finished his phone call and rejoined us. He was not looking pleased.

"That was CSU. Because our perps were wearing gloves, the only prints they were able to grab off the car belonged to the owner who reported it stolen last night." He sighed. "Looks like we're not going to grab a break on this one."

"What about the glove we found at the scene?" Beckett asked.

"Dusted it, too. Nothing." Esposito told her.

"Well, did you dust inside?"

"Inside?" Esposito gave Beckett a curious look.

"Yeah, inside the glove." Beckett repeated.

I could not keep the smile from my face. It is such things like suggesting that inside the glove should be dusted for prints, that makes Detective Kate Beckett one of the best in the business. It was obvious from the looks on Esposito and Ryan that they had not even considered doing such a thing. Beckett had.

Beckett and I returned back to the morgue and Lanie's office. Once Beckett told her what she wanted done, Lanie quickly set about accomplishing the task. She retrieved the bloodied rubber glove from the evidence bag. She snipped the top of the index finger of the glove.

As she carefully slit open the snipped index finger I leaned closer to the table to watch her work. There had been too much silence for my liking and it was getting to me.

"You want me to put on some music?" I asked her. Lanie glanced at me but said nothing. Taking that as encouragement I continued speaking. "Whenever they do this sort of thing on _CSI_, they always do it to music in poorly lit rooms. It kind of reminds me of porn."

Beckett had been standing back watching Lanie doing her job but she leaned forward and fixed me with a glare.

"Zip it, Castle." She ordered.

As per usual, I ignored her order. I looked at Lanie as she was pinning the rubber finger to the board on the table.

"Ever consider becoming a mohel?" I inquired.

Lanie paused in her work and shot me another glare.

"Keep talking and I'll practice on you." She warned.

Faced with the anger of two women who actually do scare me when the mood takes them, I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and wisely refrained from any further remarks.

Lanie dusted the rubber finger carefully and within moments under the black fingerprint dust there emerged a recognisable fingerprint.

"Got you, you son of a bitch." Beckett breathed triumphantly.

I stood up straighter and let out an exaggerated gasp of shock.

"Such a potty mouth you have, Detective Beckett." I said with mock indignation.

Beckett levelled a look at me but there was no anger in it. Her hazel eyes glinted with amusement, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she struggled to suppress the smile that threatened to break out across her face. I grinned at her. You could say we had a moment. I like to think that we did.

Lanie kind of spoiled the moment by sniggering before she sent us packing.

On returning the precinct Beckett, Ryan and I were hovering around Esposito's desk as he ran the print Lanie had been able to lift of the rubber glove through the system. Thankfully it did not take too long to get a hit on the print. Staring at the fingerprints that flashed on right hand side of the screen as they were being screened by the computer was starting to give me a bit of a headache and I had to look away.

Beckett had no problems staring at the screen. The scanning stopped and the computer announced with a proud electronic beep that it had found a match.

"Boom!" Esposito announced. "We got a hit."

Esposito punched a key on his keyboard and a mug shot appeared of a mean looking African American gentlemen, and I'm using the term 'gentleman' loosely here.

"Luther Whitehead, busted twice for possession with intent, once on conspiracy." Esposito reported reading off the summarised wrap sheet on the computer. "Pled out on all three. Did a nickel upstate for a gun charge and is currently on parole for conspiracy to distribute."

"Something tells me his parole is about to be revoked." Beckett said with a smile as she looked at Esposito. "You got an address?"

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts would be appreciated.**_

_**Con**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Case of Deep In Death

Part 3

Luther Whitehead's address turned out to be a run down tenement building near Haarlem. The building was bordering on being condemned and simply begging to be knocked down. Luther's apartment was on the second floor of the building.

Beckett, the boys and I assembled around the corner from Luther's building. Waiting for us there was a TAC team, heavily armed and mean looking. As we were approaching the rendezvous Beckett turned serious and practically implored me to stay in the car. She reminded me that this was a dangerous operation.

I made the appropriate noises that intimated that I would listen to her and stay in the car when they went in. I have to tell you that I had my fingers crossed when I was saying that. Miss out on the chance of a drug raid? You have to be kidding me, right?

Sure there was the novelty of attending a real live heavily armed police raid and it would lend authenticity to my writing but there was another reason I wanted to go in with the guys. I wanted to make sure that Beckett was alright during the raid. I trusted both Esposito and Ryan to have her back in such situations and sure they were better equipped to do the job, they had the guns after all, but after that episode with Baylor I felt a sense of obligation to have her back.

Beckett spent a few minutes with the TAC team leader coordinating the plan of action while I stood around with Ryan and Esposito. All of us were wearing our vests, I had donned my 'Writer' vest. Beckett returned from her quick meeting and jumped into her car. I jumped into the passenger seat.

She told me that half the team would go in through the fire escape and the other half would go through the front door. We started rolling.

Pulling up the front of the building Beckett killed the engine and turned to look at me. Once again

she asked me to stay in the car. Actually, she told me firmly to stay in the car. But this time she pulled out the all powerful friendship card. She was asking me as a friend to remain in the car because this was very dangerous and she did not want to worry about me getting hurt or caught in the crossfire.

Damn, she knew me too well. And damn she was sneaky using the friendship card. How could I refuse that? I told her that I would remain in the car. That earned me a small smile of thanks from her. Before she left, Beckett did leave on the tactical radio on so I could hear what went down during the raid.

After being left alone I could not help but smile at the thought that Operation Get Back Into Beckett's Good Books was showing signs of success. The smile did not last long as my concern for Beckett and the boys took over. I nervously waited and listened to the tactical radio. It seemed like forever before I heard the TAC team leader give the order to go in.

There was a loud bang that had me literally jumping in my seat. I later learned that it was a flash bang, a grenade designed to make a lot of noise and give off a very bright flash of light to disorientate the occupants of a room and give the guys storming the room those few valuable seconds to overpower the occupants. The flash bang had been thrown through the window by one of the TAC guys.

Then another bang not as loud as the first, which sounded like a door being broken down. There came a lot of shouting. In amongst it all I thought I heard her voice but I was not all that sure. I had my heart in my mouth as I waited for gunfire to go off. There was none. Quickly word came through that the apartment had been secured. I could breathe again.

Ten minutes later a few more police units rolled outside the front of the apartment building. Luther and two other companions handcuffed securely were frog marched out and into a paddy wagon. A few minutes later Beckett and the boys emerged looking pleased with themselves as they came over to the car.

I wont tell you how pleased I was to see Beckett and the boys. On the ride back to the precinct Beckett filled me in on what they had found in the apartment. They had found the bloodied packages sitting on a table. The packages that Luther and his two companions had to rip open John Allen's stomach to retrieve.

XXX

Several hours later I was standing in the observation room with Beckett and a legal aid lawyer. We were looking into the interrogation room where Luther and his two companions, one dressed in faded camouflage fatigues and the other wore a singlet and his body was covered in tattoos, sat side by side, hand-cuffed and not looking too pleased that they had been arrested by the cops and thus prevented from carrying out their activities.

"Counsellor, I have them dead to rights on weapons, possession, assault, desecration of a body, and about a dozen other things I haven't begun to think about yet." Beckett informed the lawyer confidently, after Lawyer Guy had the temerity to suggest doing a deal.

" What is my incentive to cut a deal?" She added.

"You don't have them on murder." Lawyer Guy replied.

"Give me time." Beckett shot back.

"You don't need time, because they didn't do it." lawyer Guy said. "Ten years concurrent on all charges, eligible in five, and they'll tell you everything they know."

Beckett glared at the legal aid lawyer before she turned on her heels and walked out of the observation room. I gave a curt nod to the guy and followed Beckett out. I had to scurry to catch up to her and when I did I saw that she was none too pleased at the prospect of having to make a deal with Lawyer Guy. She ended up at the murder board and stared at it.

I left her in peace for a few minutes but when she had not said anything in that time I decided to speak. I ventured the suggestion that Luther and his friends might have a clue to that might lead us to the killer.

I half expected Beckett to turn around and bite my head off for daring to make such a suggestion. She did not bite my head off. She let out a long frustrated sigh and when she turned to look at me there was resignation on her face. I could see that she was going to agree to the deal but she did not like having to do it.

She left me at the murder board while she went to see Captain Montgomery to give him an update on the case and the deal that was proposed. He signed off on it.

For the next part of the story I have to thank NYPD for kindly allowing me to view the videos of the interrogations that were conducted as it was impossible for me to sit on three interrogations that were conducted simultaneously.

Once Beckett agreed to the deal, Lawyer Guy had a word with his clients. Meanwhile Beckett said that she would take Luther, Esposito was to take Tattoo Dude and Ryan had Camo Guy.

The story that these three guys told us was this: John Allen was supposed to meet the trio at a flop house on 9th Street. He had around three quarter of a million dollars worth of cocaine rolling around in his stomach and he did not show up. So Luther and his companions went out looking for him. That's when the guys heard a lot of sirens and when they came around the corner they saw a bunch of cops staring up a tree. That was also when Luther and the guys came up with the plan to hijack the body and remove the packages in the way they had. It was not as if Allen was going to object, seeing that he was dead already.

As to the reason why John Allen became a drug mule, it was because he was desperate. Apparently he owed money, a lot of money and time was running out. Luther nor the other two guys were able to say who he owed the money to but he was scared, real scared.

At first none of the guys were willing to provide the name of the person who vouched for John Allen. Eventually all three guys provided the name of the guy who had vouched for the deceased.

A little later Beckett was leaning against her desk studying the murder board. I was standing beside her. She had just updated the murder board with the information that she and the boys had been able to extract from Luther and his companions.

Esposito and Ryan approached her. Esposito was holding a large photograph in his hand.

"Got the print out." He announced. "Ron Rigby, he's a floor trader at Goldman."

That was the name of the guy Luther and his companions had given up. Beckett held out her hand for the photo which Esposito passed over. She took a look at the photo before turning it over and attached to the photo was Rigby's rap sheet.

"Vic's wife never heard of the name." Ryan added.

"For a guy who assesses risk for a living, he sure does seem to take a lot of it." I mused aloud.

"Yeah well, look where it got him." Beckett replied.

Beckett handed the photograph back to Esposito.

"Find him and pick him up." She ordered and set off.

"You got it." Esposito replied.

Esposito and Ryan turned and started walking out of the bullpen in opposite direction. I was in two minds about going with them. Beckett called to me as she made her way for the break room. No contest really. I rushed to catch up with her.

XXX

A couple of hours later Ron Rigby was brought in by Esposito and Ryan. As the interview lounge was being used as were the interrogation rooms, we ended up speaking to him in the break room.

Ron Rigby was a guy of average height aged in his mid fifties. He was dressed in a shirt and tie and he had forgotten to get his jacket when the boys had gone to pick him up. He was pacing the floor of the break room, a little too hyper to my eye. Beckett had just informed him about John Allen's death.

"Dead?" Rigby said.

"Yeah." Beckett said. I nodded my head.

Rigby paused and turned to Beckett.

"Dead?"

"Mr Rigby, you can ask as often as you like. The answer is not going to change." Beckett told him.

"Oh, that is a damn shame." Rigby said as he resumed his pacing. "That is a damn, damn shame. I mean do you know who John Allen is?"

Apart his pacing of the floor Rigby was sniffing every so often which alluded to his cocaine habit.

"He's the new Willy Loman." Rigby said. "Everyman victim of an apathetic world. God, I swear someone should write a play."

Rigby paused in his pacing and looked across to me.

"Hey, do you write plays?" He asked.

"Unproduced." I replied swiftly.

I had written a play or two in my time when I thought I could turn my hand to theatre. One was a comedy that was not really funny and the other was a drama that was more a comedy. I had written them when Mother was going through a lean patch in her career and I thought I would play the dutiful son and create something that could be performed by her on stage. None of the people I showed them to were enthusiastic about what I had written. Mother's comments went something along the lines of 'don't give up your day job'. Needless to say those efforts now reside in my archives gathering dust.

"Mr Rigby, it's come to our attention that you recently obtained employment for Mr Allen as a drug mule." Beckett told him.

Rigby paused in his pacing and looked at Beckett.

"You know about that?" He said.

"Yeah. And bad news Ron, you're going to have to find a new dealer." I told him.

Rigby frowned a little at that piece of information. He moved over and sat down. He frowned a little more.

"What did they tell you?"

"That you got him an introduction and that you vouched for Mr Allen." Beckett said.

"Okay, look. He came to me desperate, alright?" Rigby said. "He remembered a story I told one night at the table."

"The table?" Beckett and I said at the same time. We glanced at each other.

"Yeah, poker table. We're in one of the floating games around town." Rigby said. "You, know small stakes, right, but a good way to blow off steam."

Beckett nodded her head, urging him to continue speaking.

"But then when he got laid off, it stopped being a game." Rigby said. "He started betting to make up his paycheck but the stakes were too low. So he went to Chinatown."

Beckett glanced at me and shot a questioning look.

"The mob run games." I explained.

"Yeah, Triads." Rigby agreed. "He did fine for a bit, you know, but luck's a fickle bitch. He lost more than he had to the wrong guy."

"He couldn't make enough to cover his losses." Beckett surmised.

Rigby nodded is head. "Yeah, that's when he remembered the night I told him the story about my own fiscal emergency, about how I went to Mexico and made fifty grand in one day. That's when I figured, 'Hey what the hell. Just pay it forward.'"

"Alright, this guy that he owed. Did he give you a description? A name?" Beckett asked.

Rigby shook his head. "No name. John thought he was Russian Mafia because of all his tattoos."

Beckett got Rigby to write out his statement before she turned him out and sent him on his way.

A little later Beckett, the boys and I were standing in front of the murder board. Beckett had filled in Esposito and Ryan on what Rigby had given us.

"Some tatted-up Russian mobster after me, I could see taking a job as a drug mule." Ryan remarked.

"A tattooed Russian in New York City? Well that narrows it down." Esposito sourly.

"We conduct an investigation based on information we have, not the evidence we need." Beckett reminded us.

"Well, Rigby says that the Russian hangs out at the club in Chinatown." I said. "Why don't we just go there?"

"The games are word of mouth, bro." Esposito said, glancing at me. "They don't just share with cops."

"Well, luckily, I'm not a cop." I beamed.

"Castle." Beckett warned, levelling a look at me.

"What? It's perfect." I replied. "I go in scope the place out until I ID the Russian."

Esposito turned to look at Beckett.

"Hey, you know, that's not a bad plan." He said.

Beckett regarded Esposito for a moment before she shifted her gaze towards me. Though she kept her face neutral I could tell from the look in her eyes she was not happy about this idea but having no alternative she was stuck with running with it.

"We still have to find the game." She said.

I smiled brightly at her. "Leave that to me." I said.

As you can well imagine such a statement like the one I made would pique the curiosity of Detective Beckett. Despite her best attempts I refused to divulge how I was going to obtain the location of the poker game. She even threatened me but I would not be swayed. I hastily bid my leave of the detectives and raced out of the precinct.

There was a reason I had to leave early. As luck would have it was my turn to host the semi regular poker game of my Writer Crew. One of these guys would get me the information I needed I was sure of that. Cannell and Connelly were able to make the game. Lehanne was a no show because of some family thing and Patterson could not make it because he was writing another best seller.

We'd been playing for several hours and I had been holding my own against Connelly and Cannell before I brought up the case I was working on and told them about it.

"It's a pretty good story, Ricky." Cannell said with some amusement. "Yeah, it's got a big opening, major twist."

"Though I got to say, I saw the whole 'drug mule' thing coming." Connelly said with a grin.

"Nice try, Connelly." I shot back. "You're not going to goad me into raising."

Connelly smirked even more at that remark. I turned to look at Cannell.

"Stephen, you once wrote about an underground poker game in, _King Con._

"Yeah."

I then looked across to Connelly. "And you once had Harry Bosch investigate the murder of a poker player?"

"Yeah, _One Dollar Jackpot._ Why?"

"Well, Michael, the guy we're looking for he's a regular in the Triad run games in Chinatown. I thought maybe one of you knew someone who could get me in."

"What are you nuts?" Cannell said angrily. "Those are crooks and killers down there."

"Look, Ricky, Doing research is one thing but the Russian Mafia? The Triad? You tangle with those people and all the best sellers in the world are not going to protect you." Connelly advised.

"I know, I know." I replied. "I don't plan on tangling. I'm just going to be another rich, bored thrill-seeker looking to try my luck down there."

"You must really like her." Cannell said leaning towards me.

"Who?" I said, trying to play dumb.

"That police detective of yours." Cannell replied. "Look, Rick, there's only one reason that you'd be dumb enough to go down there, and that's to impress a girl. Why don't you cut yourself a little slack and buy her some flowers?"

I would be the first to admit that there may have been a time, a while back, when I would do something like going down to Chinatown to one of the poker games to impress a girl. I have done a lot of dumb things to impress girls in my time. I did not want to go down to Chinatown just to impress Beckett. I suspect she would see right through it, if I was only trying to impress her.

I was assisting the police in an important investigation, I was helping to find a killer. That was the way I was looking at this. I got the distinct impression that neither Connolly or Cannell would believed me if I told them that.

"Do you know the place or not?" I said looking from Cannell to Connelly. "Well?"

Cannell and Connelly exchanged a disapproving look. It was obvious they did not want to tell me. Then Connelly nodded his head slightly, as if to say 'go ahead'. After some moments of silence Cannell shook his head at me. I thought he was going to refuse my request but then he pulled out a note book and scribbled something down on a sheet of paper. He tore off the sheet, folded it and then passed it across to me.

I picked up the paper and took a look at what Cannell had written. It was a name and a telephone number. I looked across to Cannell with a questioning look.

"Give him a call, he should be able to tell you where the place is." Cannell said.

"Thanks."

For the remainder of the game, both Connelly and Cannell tried to dissuade me from going down to Chinatown and tangling with the Russian Mafia and the Triad but my mind was made up on that subject so they gave up trying. I on the other hand proceeded to relieve them of some of their hard earn money. It was a win-win night for me, let me tell you.

XXX

The following morning I called the number Cannell had given me. The gentleman on the other end of the line took a little convincing. I have to say that I think I was at my persuasive best but he would not believe me. In the end he asked for my number and said he would call me back. I suspect he was calling Cannell to check with him of my bone fides.

An hour later the guy called back and gave me the location of where the poker game was going to take place tonight.

The second the guy had rang off I was hitting the speed dial number on my phone for Detective Beckett. I will admit that I sounded rather pleased with myself when I informed her that I had managed to find the location of the poker game. I could not be sure but there was a moment when she sounded a little surprised at my announcement. I did get a 'good job' out of her before she told me to come into precinct for a briefing.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Case of Deep In Death

Part 4

Beckett had requisitioned a small black unmarked delivery van with surveillance equipment. At around eight o'clock in the evening we left the precinct and headed for Chinatown. Beckett was driving the van with me riding in the front seat. Esposito and Ryan were in the back with the equipment.

From the look on her face, Beckett was still not all that happy about me going in undercover. Me on the other hand, I could barely contain my excitement. This was going to be my first proper undercover operation.

During the ride Beckett kept getting me to recite exactly what I was supposed to do once I got into the place. I could have made a joke of it, especially after fifth time she asked me to go over the plan. I didn't though. I dutifully recited the plan of action. Beckett was a little on edge and the last thing either of us needed was to get into a fight.

A little over half an hour later, New York traffic being what it was, we pulled into a small side street that was decorated with red Chinese lanterns strung across the street and came to a halt opposite an entrance to an alley. Beckett killed the engine and looked in the direction of the alley. There was a truck parked half way down the alley and beyond that we could see some red lights and ornaments.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Beckett asked as she turned to look at me.

"Cannell has never steered me wrong." I assured her.

At the precinct when I was telling Beckett how I managed to obtain the location, I mentioned that I had been playing poker with my Writer Crew and that Cannell had given me the location when I asked him for it. I did not mention about the call to Cannell's guy because I did not think it was important. Need to know, that sort of thing.

Beckett frowned as she looked at me. There was concern in those hazel eyes.

"Let's get you wired up." She announced simply.

We both got into the back of the van. Esposito wired me up with a camera in the place of one my buttons on my shirt, and a microphone for another button. Ryan fired up the surveillance equipment. There was a bank of surveillance equipment along one side of the van that included video monitors and some audio and video recorders and a computer console or two.

"Okay. Button cam's in place." Esposito announced when he finished wiring me up. "Ryan?"

"Good for picture." Ryan replied, sounding a little like one of those guys down at the Johnson Space Centre in Houston. "And...sound."

"So remember." Esposito said fixing me with a look. "We can hear you, but you can't hear us. So once you leave this van, you're on your own, okay?"

I gave him a nod of my head.

"Alright, tell me the plan again." Beckett demanded.

"I go in. I find the tattooed Russian. I get a clear picture of him, and I get the hell out of there." I told her.

"And you don't stay any longer than you need to." Beckett added.

"I'll be fine." I assured with a smile as I moved to the back door of the van. "How many Russian poker players can there be?"

I opened the door and jumped out of the van. Esposito tossed me my jacket which which hit me in the face. I put it on before I crossed the street and made my way to the alley.

For some parts of the next passage of this story, I have to thank Detectives Ryan and Esposito for their help.

As I was slowly making my way through the alley towards where the gambling place was back in the van the tension amongst the three detectives grew noticeably as they watched the video monitors.

"Anybody else have a bad feeling about this?" Beckett asked.

Both Esposito and Ryan silently raised their hands.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Beckett sighed.

I passed a number of fowl smelling dumpsters and countless plastic trash bags that littered the alley. I came to a corner and turned to find a wooden back stairway. A pair of big mean looking bouncers of Asiatic extraction were guarding the stairs. A little off to the side there was an old Chinese gentleman who was doing a good impersonation off a cook, one of the bouncers looked to the old gentleman. The old guy gave a nod of his head. Bouncer Number One gave me a quick pat down and finding nothing suspicious stepped back. Bouncer Number Two who was standing a little further up the stairs motioned me up.

I gave a nod of thanks to the bouncers and made my way up the stairs.

On entering the gambling lounge it reminded me of a number of Chinese restaurants that I had been to. It had the same kind of decorations and silk screens with red being the most dominant colour. Instead of tables for two or four, or set out for banquets, there were quite a few large round tables where quite a few people were sitting at playing poker. All races were represented at the tables. Waitresses moved around the gaming tables delivering drinks to customers or taking orders. There was a heavy smoky atmosphere. It seems the City's anti smoking laws did not apply here.

As I slowly surveyed the scene around me, I could not help but smile at what I found.

"I'm in." I whispered.

I turned to my right and saw a Caucasian male emerged from the rest room, I think. What caught my attention was that he was speaking Russian, and he sported a number of tattoos.

"Tattooed Russian." I said in a low voice. Then I spotted another tattooed Russian. "Uh, there's another tattooed Russian."

I watched the second tattooed Russian as he made his way across the room towards one of the poker tables. My eyes widened with some surprise.

"There's a whole table of tattooed Russians." I whispered. "Apparently, there are a lot more tattooed Russians in Chinatown than I thought."

So as not to stand out like a sore thumb I turned and made my way over to the bar. There was a white guy with a hat leaning against the bar. The guy in the hat had already had a few drinks under the belt and I struck up a friendly conversation. The guy in the hat was more than happy to provide information, quite a bit of information. I might have helped things along the way by buying him a drink or two.

I thanked the guy with the hat and left the bar.

"So, the Russians are regulars here." I whispered into the microphone. "But only a handful of them play at the no limit table, which is where John Allen would have gone." I slowly started making my way towards the table where the tattooed Russians were sitting.

"The guy said they're card bullies, pushing up pots, forcing their opponents to bet more just to stay in the game." I added.

In the van outside, Beckett and the boys were wearing earphones to listen in on what the microphone had been picking up. Beckett was sitting in the middle, her eyes glued to the video monitor.

"You think he has any idea he's recapping a conversation that we heard in its entirety?" Ryan remarked.

"Give the guy a gadget, he thinks he's Bond." Esposito replied.

"Let's hope he remembers he's wearing a camera before he goes and takes a leak." Ryan said.

Esposito looked across to his partner. "Why would you ever..."

"Trust me." Ryan interjected sharply.

As Esposito and Ryan were having a conversation, I spoke again, and voice came through the headphones.

"...what kind of trouble I can stir up." I whispered. "I'm going to sit at the table, see if I can find anything out."

"What did he say?" Beckett said.

"He just said he's taking a seat." Ryan informed her.

"That's not the plan. That's not the plan, Castle." Beckett shouted at the monitor.

I swift walked to the table where the tattooed Russians were sitting and planted myself down on the empty chair. I flashed a charming smile at the grim looking tattooed Russians sitting around the table.

"How's it going?" I said amiably.

"This is a no limit table." Tattooed Russian number one said.

I grinned at him as I removed my jacket.

"Which is perfect, because I'm a no limit kind of guy." I replied.

Having reached into my pocket I slapped a rather large stack of cash onto the table. I looked to the female dealer sitting on my immediate left and smiled.

"Change twenty thousand please." I said.

There was a flicker of surprise from all the tattooed Russians around the table at the amount of cash I had just placed on the table.

Back in the van Beckett was shouting at the monitor.

"No, no, no, no! What's he doing?"

"Dropping half my yearly salary like it was pocket change." Ryan remarked sourly.

I looked across to the tattooed Russian sitting on my immediate right.

"Nice tatts." I remarked as I reached for the poker chips that had been passed to me. I noticed all the Russians staring at me.

"Tats...tattoos. That...tat...it's nice. What do they say?" I stammered.

"It says mind your own business and play cards." Tattooed Russian number two replied sharply.

"Alright. Don't mean to pry." I said quickly. "I'm actually just a writer. I'm just doing a little bit of research."

"A writer, huh?" Said the tattooed Russian who was sitting directly opposite me. I later found out that his name was Sasha. Sasha looked a little like the British actor Terrance Stamp, only a little more bulkier and meaner, with far more tattoos and without the refined English accent.

"Anything, we might have heard of?" Sasha asked.

"Uh, _Storm Fall, Storm's Last Stand._" I said.

"Derrick Storm?" Tattooed Russian number one said, a little excitedly.

"Yeah."

"I love this guy. Why did you kill him?"

"It's a long story. But I'm working on a new one, about underground poker." I informed the tattooed Russians. "Very hush-hush, I just kind of came down here to get a feel for the world, you know."

"And you want it to be authentic." Sasha said with a small smile on his face.

"Exactly." I agreed.

"No problems."

Sasha then spoke to his cohorts in their native tongue. They all laughed. I smiled around the table. I had no idea what he had just said but it must have been something funny, so why not smile? Just to show them I'm friendly.

"Seems like he making friends." Ryan said with some amusement.

I may not have known what Sasha had said to his cohorts, and Ryan and his partner may not have known either but there was one person in the van who actually did.

"They just said that they're going to take him for everything he's got." Beckett announced.

"What, you speak Russian?" Esposito said in surprise.

Beckett looked at Esposito.

"Semester in Kiev between junior and senior year." Beckett informed him. Then she put on a fake Russian accent. "Sometimes, when I am bored, I go to Glechik Cafe in Little Odessa and pretend to be Muscovite."

"Now, that's kind of hot." Esposito said as he stared at her.

Beckett shot him with one of her glares that had Esposito turning his attention back to the monitor.

"Raise." Sasha announced as he tossed some chips into the pot in the middle of the table.

"Call." Said the tattooed Russian sitting to Sasha's right. I later learned that his name was Illya.

I began to fake stretched and I shifted my chest from one side to the other, allowing the camera to pick up all the tattooed Russians at the table.

"Check the players hands." Beckett ordered. "See if there's anything that will explain the bruise patterns on our vic's neck."

I called on this hand and tossed the appropriate chips into the pot.

"Mr Castle, tell me a little bit more about this book." Sasha asked. Actually the way it came out it sounded more like a command. I was in no position to refuse.

"Well, it's about a Russian mobster with a taste for cards." I started off. "He, uh, preys off of desperation, luring people into betting more than they have."

"And why would he do this?" Sasha questioned.

"Because he's also a loan shark. See, he fronts his victims and makes bank on the vig."

In the van Beckett frowned at the monitor.

"What the hell's he doing?" She said.

"He's playing poker." Esposito replied. "He's trying to provoke one of these guys into giving up their hand."

"Or he's trying to tip off our killer."

At the poker table I could see I had the attention of the tattooed Russians, so I continued with the story.

"But this one guy, a family guy, he gets in a little too deep." I said slowly. "He can't pay the loan back. So the mobster has no choice. Has to kill him, send a message to anyone else who owes. So one night, he lures him into an abandoned building, strangles him to death and throws him off the building."

Sasha nodded his head slowly. "Sounds like a lot of work." He said. "Why not just put bullet in his head?" He said. "More simple." Sasha made a pistol of his fingers. "Bang."

All the tattooed Russians started laughing and I joined in the laughter, even if I felt a little uneasy on the inside.

"Oh my God." Beckett muttered.

"Hey, Ryan, check this out." Esposito said pointing at the monitor, Illya in particular. "What's he doing with his finger?"

"Punch in on that." Beckett ordered.

Ryan quickly punched a couple of keys on his console and the screen zeroed in on Illya's pinky finger. It revealed that Illya was twirling it around and around.

"It's a prosthetic. That's why it didn't leave a mark on our vic. That's our guy." Beckett declared.

"Hey, if he thinks Castle a threat, he's..." Esposito said.

"We got to get him out of there now." Beckett announced.

She rose to her feet, concern creasing her face.

"Their security's pretty well armed." Esposito pointed out. "We go in there as cops, it might get messy."

Beckett started moving for the back door.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Ryan asked.

"Uh, I'm going to go in there. And if I'm not out in ten minutes, you guys call for back up." Beckett said. She turned to Esposito. "Can I have my purse please?"

Esposito passed over Beckett's purse.

"What are you going to do? Lip gloss him to death?" He asked.

"Something like that." Beckett replied as she stepped out of the van.

About five or so minutes later the boys were stunned to see Beckett doing a catwalk strut along the alley towards the back entrance of the poker lounge. You see there were a couple of cameras mounted on the outside the van. What made them speechless was not the actual catwalk strut but what she was wearing, or in this case, not wearing.

While Beckett was doing a quick change into Russian Beckett, things had gotten very interesting at the poker table.

"All in." Sasha announced as he pushed a large pile of chips into the middle of the table.

"It's a big pot, Mr Writer Man. All that money, but what is money to a millionaire, huh?" Sasha chuckled. "You can just write it off on your taxes as, uh, research."

I regarded Sasha a moment and then at the other tattooed Russians before looking back at Sasha.

"All in." I announced suddenly, then pushed all my chips to join the others in the middle.

"You are like character in your book, in too deep." Sasha chuckled, setting his cards down. "Three queens."

I nodded my head slowly as I stared at the cards Sasha had laid down on the table.

"That's very impressive." I said. "Not a lot can beat three queens."

I turned over my cards. "Except an inside straight, maybe."

None of the tattooed Russians were happy to have lost, Sasha most of all. They looked at me with stoney-faced disbelief. I did not care all that much. I was feeling rather pleased with myself at having beaten the tattooed Russians. I knew that they were trying to beat me out of my money and were ganging up on me to do so. I may not have understood Russian but I can smell a set up when I see one.

"Sweetheart this is for you." I said the dealer, giving her a large tip. "Would you change this into something smaller that I can carry?" I indicated to the pile of chips I had won. I then looked over to Sasha and grinned.

"Now that is a big pile of money. But what's money to a mobster, right?" I said.

Having collected my winnings I nodded my goodbyes to Sasha and his cohorts. I rose to my feet and started walking away. I had not gone too far when Illya suddenly rose from the table came around it and followed me. He shoved a gun into my back.

"Walk." Illya growled.

I could only obey the command and Illya pushed me into the kitchen. Unluckily for me there was no one else in here. I was trying not to panic but it was pretty touch and go.

"Who are you?" Illya demanded as he waved the gun at me.

"I told you, I'm...I'm a novelist." I told him.

"The story. The dead man, the roof. Who told you? Who knows?" There was more waving of the gun in my direction.

"His family knows. His children know."

"If he had paid what he owed, he'd be home with them now." Illya said, desperation showing on his face. "But he crossed me. And now you have crossed me."

"No, no, no, no I'm just a writer." I assured him.

"Do not lie! You are cop." Illya shouted.

"Him, a cop? Don't make me laugh. He's barely even a man."

I turned in the direction of the door way at the sound of the accented female voice. Surprise does not even begin to describe my reaction on seeing Beckett standing there. I was sure that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. My mouth certainly fell open. I distinctly remember her wearing stretch jeans, a dark shirt and a jacket. She was now wearing a buttoned sweater with more than a few buttons left undone to reveal a lacy red bra. The sweater struggled to cover her thighs. Where did she get that sweater? And those legs! Wow! Where has she been hiding those legs! And the way she moved...Wow!

"Beckett?" I squeaked out.

"But you are a man, aren't you?" Beckett said in that accented voice she had affected as she approached and came to stand just a little behind me, running her hands over my shoulders. "A very handsome man. Richard are you bothering this handsome man?"

I will swear on a stack of bibles or any other holy relic that you care to put in front of me, that Beckett was purring, purring in a Russian accent. My beautiful and ever inspiring and extraordinary partner in life will deny it, of course but I know what I heard. She was so hot that she was scorching. I will readily admit that at this particular moment my normal brain function such as it was had shut down at the sight of sexy Russian Beckett.

"Go away." Illya shouted, still waving the gun directly at my chest.

"Okay, boys and their guns." Beckett said, she moved away from me and a little towards Illya. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"It doesn't concern you." Illya told her.

"Actually...it does..."

Beckett moved swiftly she reached out and grabbed Illya's hand that held the gun and twisted it while at the same time with her free hand hit him hard in the face. In the blink of an eye Illya was face planted on the table with one arm twisted behind his back and his own gun just inches from his head.

"Is it just my imagination or did you change?" I inquired, unable to drag my eyes off her.

"Castle, could you get some back up please?" Beckett requested.

"Yeah...yeah." I stammered as I started moving out of the kitchen.

"Sssh, quiet." Beckett said to Illya. "Thank you."

I think the 'thank you' was directed to me not to Illya.

I raced out of the kitchen for the front door to get back up. Detectives Esposito and Ryan had already burst in with the cavalry, a heavily armed TAC team. They had seen via the camera what was going down with me an Illya and called in for back up. We raced back to the kitchen to find Beckett still holding Illya down. The boys quickly took over cuffing the tattooed Russian and dragging him out.

We returned to the precinct where Beckett changed back into her other clothes much to my disappointment, and the disappointment of both Esposito and Ryan. Then she and I went into the interrogation room where Illya was waiting. This tattooed Russian was a tough nut to crack but then again he had never come up against someone like Detective Beckett. It took her a couple of hours but she finally got him to talk. It certainly helped matters that we had his confession on tape. Soon after Illya was on his way to Central Booking.

XXX

The following day I arrived at the precinct in the afternoon. I had a couple of meetings in the morning so there was no great urgency to be at the precinct not unless I wanted to watch Beckett doing paperwork. When I arrived I found Beckett was not at her desk. Looking around I spotted her in the interview lounge speaking to Sandy Allen, no doubt informing her that her husband's killer had been found and charged.

I decided not to intrude on that scene. I returned to Beckett's desk and sat myself down in the chair that pretty much had become my own. I waited patiently for Beckett to finish with Mrs Allen. From where I was sitting I had a view of the interview lounge.

Half an hour later the door to the interview lounge opened and Mrs Allen emerged escorted by a uniformed officer who took her to the elevator. Beckett followed them out and she came into the bullpen. She reached her desk and sat down.

"So, how is she?" I inquired.

"It's hard when everything you thought you knew turns out to be a lie." Beckett replied.

"Well not everything was a lie." I pointed out. "Not her husband's love. I mean, sometimes we do the wrong things for the right reasons."

"So, case closed." Beckett said with a smile. "I guess your Cosmo story gets a happy ending."

"Speaking of happy endings, thanks for saving my life." I said.

"I just trying to avoid paperwork." Beckett's smile deepened a little more.

I nodded my head in understanding.

"We make a pretty good team, you know." I pointed out. "Like, Starsky and Hutch, Tango and Cash, Turner and Hooch."

Beckett leaned back in her chair a little as she narrowed her eyes at me. A small smile on her lips.

"You know, now that you mention it, you do reminded me a little of Hooch."

I made a face at her trying not to laugh.

There was one subject that we both had studiously avoided discussing through the case but now that the case was over I chose this moment to venture into dangerous waters. I could not leaves things the way they were. I wanted to resolve it.

"It's because you're afraid, isn't it?" I said gently. I saw her stiffen a little but I continued on. "You're afraid that if you look into your mother's death, that you'll go back down that rabbit hole and lose yourself again. But it's different this time."

Beckett looked at me but did not say a word. There was a glint of anger in her eyes.

"We have good leads. We have strong leads." I said. "And you won't have to do it alone. We can do it together."

For some moments Beckett remained silent just staring at me. I could see the spark of anger in her eyes had grown into a blaze.

"What if I don't want to know? Did you ever think of that? What if I'm not ready?" Beckett said glaring at me. "What if the idea of catching my mom's murderer and then having to sit there and watch as he cuts some deal that puts him back out on the street in ten years makes me nauseous?"

She paused to take a breath but continued to glare at me but as well as the fire of anger in her eyes, there was a mixture of sadness and disappointment as well. A look that I had not seen for a few months, not since that time in the hospital corridor.

"You dredged up my past for you, Castle, not for me, and you're too selfish to even see it." She accused. She hardened herself against the tears that threatened. "The case is closed, Castle. We made a deal, and I expect you to honour it."

I had no come back to all that she said. She was still angry at me. Operation Get Back Into Beckett's Good Books had failed. She was banishing me from the precinct. Yes, we had made a deal but I had been hoping that she would take me back. It turned out to be a false hope.

I was devastated. There was nothing I could say or do that would change her mind. So I would honour the agreement we had made. With great sadness I rose to my feet, gave Beckett one final look then turned and walked out of the bullpen for the last time.

I wandered the streets for a couple of hours. Where I went or what I did I have no idea, my mind is a complete blank on that score. All I kept thinking about was how Beckett had banished me and how dejected I felt.

I got home around six o'clock and went straight to my office where I powered up the laptop and started writing. I had finished the first book but I had ideas for the second book and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it. There was no guarantee that there would be another Nikki Heat book but I needed to write.

"You're writing?" Alexis said, sounding a little surprised.

"It was time." I replied without pausing in my typing.

"And Beckett?"

This time I did pause in my typing. I looked up Alexis as she approached the desk and shook my head slowly, unable to hide my disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"So, how was the movie?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"We didn't go." Alexis shrugged her shoulders.

"Why not?" I asked frowning.

"Owen."

I was started to get concerned for her. "What happened?"

"He was playing video games and lost track of time." Alexis explained. "By the time he showed up, it was too late."

"Sorry sweetie."

"And then when he did show up, he tried to act like it's no big deal. Like I'm overreacting. I mean he didn't even call." Alexis sighed. She looked at me. "Why do boys do that? Why do they have to justify everything? Why can't they just say they're sorry?"

Out of mouths of babes.

The parting with Detective Beckett was raw and painful. I tried to ease the pain by losing myself in the world of Nikki Heat. It was all my fault. I had finally come to the realisation that I had overstepped and I had hurt her in a way I could not even begin to imagine. I had lost her trust. Her words still echoed in my ears when she banished me. The disappointed look on her face was burned in my memory. All because of what I had done.

It was my darling daughter who made me realise why I had done it. And it was my darling daughter who showed me what I had to do. In all of this I had not done it and I needed to do it.

I rose from my chair and came around from the desk and took Alexis into my arms and hugged her. I planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Alexis asked as she looked up at me with a curious look on her face.

"For just...being you." I told her, smiling.

Once releasing her from the hug I informed Alexis that I had to step out for a little while. Alexis did not ask where I was going. Minutes later I was flying out the front door.

At this time of the night there were very few people in the bullpen, most of the people had gone home for the night. I was not surprised to find Beckett still at her desk, finishing paperwork from the case we had solved and closed more than likely.

I came to stand by her desk and for some moments she ignored my presence. She had to know that I was standing there, her paused pen was a bit of a give away. I could not blame her for that. I deserved it and probably more.

Finally she looked up. The anger I had seen earlier had cooled but the hurt was still there in her

hazel eyes. I did not like seeing that hurt there and I felt even worse because I was the reason for that hurt.

"I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I violated your trust, I opened old wounds, and I did not respect your wishes." I said. "And if we're not going to see each other again, then you deserve to know...I am very, very sorry."

Beckett did not respond. What was I hoping for, a smile? A word? An acceptance of my apology?Something, anything? I don't know. Beckett did not speak. That was okay. I had made my unreserved and heartfelt apology. I turned from her desk and slowly walked away leaving her to her paper work.

I had almost reached the main hallway.

"Castle."

I stopped and turned to look back at Beckett.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said.

Those four words lifted the weight of remorse off my shoulders. Her acceptance of my apology lightened my heart like you would not believe. My spirits lifted. A small smile appeared on my face. I gave her a small nod of the head before I turned and resumed walking out of the bullpen.

XXX

Now you might be wondering if sexy Russian Beckett has ever made a reappearance? Let me just say that we have visited Glechik Cafe in Little Odessa a few times over the years. That sexy hot little outfit that she materialised in at that poker lounge has not appeared again but that hot accent certainly has many, many times.

If I ever need to see her in that sexy hot little outfit again all I have to do is look at the surveillance footage from that night. I have a full copy of the surveillance tape thanks to Detective Ryan. The DA was given a slightly edited version of the tape. What, you think I wouldn't want to have a tape of Russian Beckett? I have only seen it once though, it was to assist me in writing up this case file. I have it safely ensconced in the Castle archives, somewhere. Some time in the future I might pull it out and take a look at it again but not any time soon though. Why would I, when I have the real thing close at hand?

XXXXX

_**So what did you think of this first case from the second volume of the Case Files? Drop me a line to let me know, I would really like that.**_

_**Con **_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Case of The Double Down

Part 1

A full moon can do funny things to some people. The strange pull of that celestial body orbiting the earth endlessly unleashes bizarre behaviour in people, makes them do things they normally would not do, say things they would not say. There are mountains of anecdotal evidence to support this. Ask the ER staff of any major hospital what it's like on a night of a full moon. For that matter, ask any cop what its like on a night of a full moon and you might get some idea of what I'm trying to say.

Speaking of which, on this particular full moon I was at the 12th Precinct sitting in my chair beside Beckett's desk. Yes, I now considered it my chair. I originally had not intended coming down to the precinct as Beckett was not working an active case and the prospect of watching Beckett doing paperwork, though a pleasurable activity at the best of times, would not hold my attention span for too long. But I had not seen Beckett for a day or so because most of my time had been spent in meetings, meetings I would have ditched the instant Beckett called to advise a body had dropped. But no body had dropped.

The last of my meetings had gone into overtime before I was finally released. The 12th Precinct was not all that far away and like I said I had not seen Beckett for a couple of days, so I decided to go in, say hello, hang around and see what cropped up.

I am so glad I did!

The second the last rays of the sun had disappeared under the horizon and the first sight of the full moon in the sky, the crazies had come out of the woodwork and every other nook and cranny of the city that I loved. I was sitting in my seat unable to contain my excitement as I watched the chaos unfold all around the bullpen. There was an awful racket going on all over the place as uniforms and detectives alike tried to subdue some of the crazies that had been hauled in off the streets. I was shovelling popcorn into my mouth from the bowl that I had clutched to my chest. As soon as the fun and games had started I had raced into the break room and got myself the popcorn. This was better than any movie at a cinema.

A couple of uniforms were trying to subdue a costumed crazy over here, a dishevelled, half naked hippy was trying to be talked down from a table he jumped up on over there, a guy whose face had been painted up like Heath Ledger's Joker was screaming and laughing as he ran down the length of the bullpen being chased by another harried member of New York's finest.

However my favourite was the bimbo chick fight that had erupted a couple of desks down over at Detective Karpowski's desk. Both bimbo's were really getting into it. This was a full on no holds barred fight with the women clawing at each other with more ferocity than you would find in any of those wrestling shows while Karpowski and another detective were trying to pull them apart. Bimbo Chick Number One pulled a hank of hair from Bimbo Chick Number Two. Outraged and no doubt in some pain, Bimbo Chick Number Two clawed at Bimbo Chick Number One, tearing off her her shirt to reveal a hot pink bra.

I glanced across to Beckett and found her quietly sipping the coffee that I had brought her when I had gone to get the popcorn. She was impervious to the din going on all around her, concentrating on her paperwork.

"What is it about full moons that brings out all the crazies?" I said gleefully.

"I don't know. You tell me." Beckett replied drily, casting a pointed look in my direction.

At that particular moment Bimbo Chick Number One fell across Beckett's desk with a loud thud as Detective Karpowski battled to subdue her. My eyes, as you can well imagine, fell onto Bimbo Chick Number One's hot pink bra and in particular, the assets contained therein. I could not help but leer. The guy who ever invented the Wonderbra deserves pride of place in my personal pantheon of mankind's greatest inventions. That guy, as well as Louis Reard and Jacques Heim, the inventors of the modern bikini.

"Hey, Karpowski, how's it going?" Beckett said nonchalantly to the harried detective.

"Same old, same old." Karpowski replied. "And you, Beckett?"

"I can't complain."

Having gotten her second wind Karpowski gave a quick nod to Beckett before she hauled Bimbo Chick Number One off Beckett's desk and dragged her back to her own desk.

"You guys should really sell tickets." I suggested excitedly.

Beckett gave me an eye roll in response to that suggestion.

"I mean, you got everything, madness, mayhem. Now all you need is..."

I did not get to finish the sentence because the phone on Beckett's desk interrupted me. Beckett quirked an eyebrow at me as I looked on expectantly. She reached over, picked up the phone and answered it. I could tell from the look on her face as she listened to the caller and the quick scribbled note on a pad she made that a body had dropped. I could not contain my gleeful excitement. This night could not turn out better. Madness, mayhem and now a murder. I was so glad I had decided to come in to the precinct.

XXX

The location of the murder scene was a therapist's office located in a building Downtown. On entering the office the body of a woman, aged in her early thirties was laying on the couch, on a coffee table near the couch were a couple of plates with chopsticks and a couple of empty takeaway containers, the remnants of dinner. There was a large fish tank in the room that was full of tropical fish swimming about, seemingly oblivious to what was going on outside the tank.

On reaching the body, Ryan and Esposito joined us. They had arrived at the scene a little before Beckett and I did.

"Ashley Cosway, 32, a couples therapist." Ryan reported, introducing us to the deceased. "Husband found her just before midnight."

"He was picking her up on his way home after the St John's game at the Garden." Esposito added.

"Any witnesses?" Beckett asked.

"None so far." Esposito held out an evidence bag that contained a receipt. "But I did find a receipt for this takeout here."

Beckett examined the bagged receipt. "Dinner for two."

"Yeah, it's from the Szechuan Wok, over on 9th." Esposito said as he took back the receipt. "Receipt doesn't match any of the cards in the vic's wallet."

Beckett motioned in the direction of the next room where the husband was seated in an armchair with his back turned towards us.

"Husband recognise the number?" Beckett said.

Ryan shook his head.

"When was it charged?"

"6.02pm. Lanie puts the time of death around eight." Ryan said.

I had wandered over to the fish tank.

"Well, who ever she had dinner with may have been the last person to see her alive." I suggested.

"Or the first one to see her dead." Beckett countered. She looked to her two detectives. "Run the card."

The boys nodded their heads and moved off.

I was gazing at the fish as they sailed along near the glass. I tapped the glass to try and catch their attention without much success.

"You know, if this was one of those super sciencey forensic shows, we'd stick some electrodes into these fishes' brains. Get a fish-eye view of whatever they saw." I suggested.

I did not get a response to that particular suggestion, not that I was expecting one. I was looking through the fish tank glass and had a good, if blurred view of the next room. Suddenly my attention was arrested by a shimmering splash of magenta. Quickly I straightened up and stared.

Medical Examiner Dr Lanie Parish appeared from the next room and walked over to the couch where Beckett was standing. Lanie was dressed in a form fitting magenta halter dress cut at the front in such a way which showed off her 'assets' to very good affect. And not just her 'assets' either, the rest of her curves that are usually hidden under surgical scrubs.

"Dr Parish." Beckett said, glancing at her friend. "When did they change the dress code Downtown?"

"Well, unlike you, I don't sit around work all night waiting for the next vic to show." Lanie chided gently. "Quit looking at the girls, Castle."

"Roger that." I muttered hurriedly.

Yeah, okay, I was staring at Lanie, guilty as charged. I could not help it. You would have done the same. This was the first time I had seen 'the girls' on show. Lanie though she may be petite in stature, has been blessed in the assets department. This was the first time I had seen her not in scrubs or usual work clothes. A guy could not help but stare. Any guy with a pulse would have.

The thing that startled me was that Lanie was not even looking at me but she knew I was staring at her. That was a little scary.

"Multiple GSW. Entries look fairly small calibre, probably a .22." Lanie informed Beckett.

Beckett leaned over the body of the Ashley Cosway and turned the head towards her. There was writing all over the victim's face.

"'Psycho the Rapist'? 'Your out of time'?" Beckett read off the writing.

"Looks like a patient lost their patience." Lanie remarked.

"Also his command of grammar." I said, having seen the writing on the victim's face. "'Your' should be U-apostrophe-R-E as in 'you are'. That's not even a tough one, not like when to use 'who' or 'whom'"

Sometimes I can be a little particular when it comes to the proper use of grammar. I'm a writer, after all, and a pretty successful one at that, even if I do say so myself. Words and grammar are kind of my stock in trade.

Beckett turned and shot me a look of disbelief.

"Do you really think that's the take-away here, Castle?" She said.

I shrugged. "I'm just saying whoever killed her also murdered the English language."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head before she turned back to Lanie.

"Any signs of struggle?"

"Bruises on both arms." Lanie pointed out.

"Check for fibres and hair. See if our killer left anything behind." Beckett said.

"Okay."

Beckett turned and started to make her to the room next door where the now bereaved husband was. I followed Beckett and as I passed Lanie I could not help myself, I stared at 'the girls' again.

"Castle!" Lanie snapped.

"Mm-mmm." I muttered, averting my gaze and quickly moved to join Beckett.

XXX

Jason Cosway, a solidly built man just under six foot in height. He was dressed in a rumpled grey business suit with the tie loosened and the top button of the white shirt he wore left undone. There was a stunned expression on his face as if he was still struggling to come to terms with the events that were unfolding around him, as if this was all a dream. Sadly for him this was no dream but a horrific nightmare.

Jason had risen from the armchair he had been sitting in when Beckett and I entered the room and introduced ourselves. He consented to Beckett's request to answer a few questions that she had. He was now standing with his back to the other room.

"She, uh, never discussed her patients." Jason said slowly in response to Beckett's opening question if Jason's wife ever discuss her patients with him. "Ash, was very professional that way."

"What was she doing here so late?" Beckett inquired.

"She always would have a couple of nights a month where she'd work late, writing up case notes." Jason replied. "I'd use that time to go out with the boys and have a boy's night, and when I'd get back I'd walk her home."

"Did you know who she was having dinner with?"

"No. I mean, unless someone called after we spoke."

"And when was that?"

"That was before I left work." Jason was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. "Six-ish. I was...I was heading to the game."

"What did you talk about?" I asked.

"Just a meaningless check in."

As Jason was speaking Ryan appeared in the doorway and signalled to Beckett. She acknowledged him with a slight nod of her head.

"Right now I remember I didn't say 'I love you'" Jason said sadly, and he rubbed his chin.

"Thank you, Mr Cosway." Beckett said gently.

Jason nodded his head. "Yeah."

Beckett headed for the doorway where Ryan and Esposito were standing. I followed her.

"We got another." Esposito announced. "Pop and drop on 100th and 2nd."

"Full moon strikes again." I remarked.

"Alright, you guys go on uptown and I'll finish up here." Beckett ordered.

"So much for my famous honey-milk with Jenny tonight." Ryan sighed dejectedly. He looked up startled as he saw the reactions on our faces. "Did I just say that aloud?"

Esposito shot his partner a glare as they headed off. There was an amused look on Beckett's face as she watched the boys leave. There was a trace of it when she turned back to look at me.

"Her husband calls before six and the food's picked up at 6.02." She said. "She knew who she having dinner with."

"Someone with bad grammar." I pointed out.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head before we she turned back and walked back into the other room.

XXX

For the next part of the story, I have the boys, Esposito and Ryan, to thank.

Esposito and Ryan were walking along a footpath, approaching the crime scene. Esposito had been silent about Ryan's honey-milk remark all through the drive uptown. All the same it was bothering him and now he could not remain silent.

"Warm milk nightcap with your lady? That is sad bro." Esposito remarked.

"It helps her sleep." Ryan replied defensively.

Esposito glanced at his partner.

"How about the sound of your voice?" He said. "Doesn't...? Works on me."

Ryan shook his head but chose not to make a comeback. The two detectives passed under the yellow crime scene tape and slowly approached where the body lay on the ground.

"How you doing, Dr Perlmutter" Ryan called out.

Dr Sidney Perlmutter, the medical examiner, was kneeling beside the body making notes on his clipboard. Dr Perlmutter was aged in his mid fifties, balding with a sour disposition and an abrasive attitude. He seemed to rub people up the wrong way. Humourless was another description you could lob at him and you would not be too far from the truth.

"Sssh. The body is speaking." Perlmutter replied.

"What's it saying?" Esposito asked.

"It's saying, 'Someone shot me'." Perlmutter retorted as he slowly got to his feet. "One to the mid-section, .38. Maybe a .45. He was shot at close range and from behind."

"That's cold." Esposito said.

"Yeah, well, that's the living for you." Perlmutter said with a shrug.

"He have any ID?" Ryan asked.

"Well, wallet is gone. No watch, no jewellery."

"A looky-loo said she recognised him from the neighbourhood." Perlumtter said. "Gave his info to Officer Whojimaface over there." Perlmutter pointed over his shoulder to where a uniform was standing some distance away making notes in his notepad.

"Whojmaface?" Esposito said with some surprise.

"Nice to see you making an effort to bond with the rank and file, Perlmutter." Ryan quipped.

Perlmutter merely shrugged his shoulders and returned to his work while Esposito and Ryan got down to doing their jobs.

XXX

Once Beckett and I had finished up at Ashley Cosway's office we returned to the precinct. The madness and mayhem from earlier on had settled down. The crazies had been herded out of the bullpen and were now filling up the lock ups. It was rather quiet now in the bullpen, well relatively quiet because I was on a bit of a rant.

Beckett was sitting at her desk and she was rubbing her forehead. In time I would come to learn what this head rubbing meant: 1) She was starting to get a headache; 2) She already had a headache and I was the cause of it; 3) I was starting to get on her nerves but was being too polite to mention it; 4) I already had gotten on her nerves but was calling on her reserves of will power to ignore it; 5) She was contemplating shooting me and was wondering how much paperwork she would have to fill out afterwards; 6) She was going to shoot me and to hell with the paperwork and 7) All of the above!

As I said I was off on a bit of a rant because of our killer's murdering of grammar.

"It's not like you're just leaving yourself a note, you know, to by bread on the way home." I said, oblivious to Beckett's condition. "You're writing on a person you just murdered. You're trying to make a point. A point you care a great deal about, presumably, because you just killed someone to make it. So how do you not make sure that you're using the proper language to make that point?"

While I was pontificating on how a killer should take the time to use proper grammar, Esposito and Ryan came in from their crime scene.

"Frank Anderson, retired middle school math teacher from IS161." Ryan informed Beckett. "Do you want in?"

Beckett's cell phone started ringing and she reached for it. "No thanks, full up." she said and then answered the call. She rose from her chair and walked away from her desk.

The boys walked over to their desks and sat down. With Beckett on the phone I rose and went over to the boys. They were sitting at Esposito's desk and had their backs to me

"So? How did you find the body?" I asked.

"On the ground." Esposito said as he turned around.

"Was it positioned in a creepy way?"

"Yeah, like a guy who was shot."Ryan replied.

"Oh so, just your garden variety homicide-robbery, huh?" I said, a little deflated.

"Actually, pop and drops are some of the hardest cases to solve." Esposito informed me.

"Randomness of the victim, anonymous nature of the crime. It takes some real serious detective work." Ryan added.

"Okay, well if you guys want any help, you know where to find me." I told them.

"'Help?' Did you just say 'help'?" Ryan said, affronted.

"Don't worry about us, Castle. We'll probably close ours before your therapist." Esposito boasted.

"Really?" I said with a little surprise.

Esposito nodded his head "Mm-mmm."

"Well, perhaps you'd like to make things interesting?" I challenged.

After the case I did take a moment to reflect on this moment I spent with boys and the challenge I threw down at them. Maybe I did not like the way Esposito and Ryan were acting so cocky? Maybe I was annoyed that they declined my offer of help. Maybe I was affronted to think that the boys were disparaging about Beckett's and my ability to solve our case. Or maybe it was because it was a full moon. I'm going to go with full moon.

"Wait. Are you saying you want to wager on who solves their case first?" Ryan said incredulously.

"That's sick, bro." Esposito shook his head. "Fifty bucks?"

I nodded my head.

"We win, you pay both of us." Ryan added.

I looked from Ryan to Esposito.

"Deal." I said firmly.

I started to get up from my seat but both Esposito and Ryan pulled me down back in my seat and leaned closer to me.

"Not a word to Beckett, okay?" Esposito said in a low voice. "If she finds out, she'll shoot us."

"Secrets, murder and gambling." I whispered back. "Three of my favourite pastimes. May the best man win."

I held out my hand, palm down.

"May he." Esposito said and put his hand over mine.

Ryan sealed our little wager by spitting in his hand and putting it on top of Esposito's. Esposito closed his eyes and shook his head.

With our wager sealed I returned to Beckett's desk. She had returned to her chair and was starting to write up the initial reports of the case. Seeing the lateness of the hour I chose that moment to head off home and leave Beckett in peace.

XXXXX

_**There you go, part one of the next case from Castle's Case Files. I hope you enjoyed it. Drop me a line to let me know what you though.**_

_**Con **_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The Case of The Double Down

Part 2

It was around eight-thirty in the morning when I emerged from my bedroom dressed and ready to face another day in the city that I love. I found Mother in the kitchen having breakfast. While I got myself a coffee I filled Mother in on the events of the night before. She listened in amused silence as I recounted the mayhem and madness I had been privy to at the precinct. I also told her about the two murders that Beckett and the boys had caught. I could not help myself but I did mention to Mother of the bet I had made with Esposito and Ryan.

"Richard, that's appalling." Mother said. "Wagering on death."

"They're already dead, Mother. And who's to say that catching killers cannot be fun?" I replied with a grin.

"Hey, Dad," Alexis said as she entered the kitchen. "Are you working tonight?"

"Maybe, why?" I said.

"Oh, I just have math club until six, and then I wanted to take Owen out for a birthday banana split at Serendipity." Alexis informed me. "I just wanted to do something special because things have been a little rocky with us lately."

Alexis' relationship with Owen had hit rough waters recently. There was that _Fame_ episode the other week that had caused some pain and angst.

"Nothing smoothes rocky like Rocky Road." I smiled. "Just remember, it's a school night. Be home by midnight."

Alexis gave me a look. "Dad, I'll be home by nine." She said. She leaned over and planted a quick peck on my cheek. "Love you."

"Love you." I replied.

Then Alexis gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek as well.

"Bye, darling." Mother cooed.

Mother lifted up her cup of coffee.

"Ah, young love." She sighed. "First, banana splits. Then splitting assets."

Mother has had some experience in the splitting of marital assets.

"Mother, you are such a hopeless romantic." I remarked with a grin as we touched coffee cups in a toast.

My phone started ringing. Mother put her coffee down and got off her stool.

"I'm off to an audition." She announced.

"And I have a bet to win." I said before I answered my phone.

XXX

I got into the precinct just after nine-thirty and discovered that Beckett had been hard at work on the case. On finding out the name of the person who owned the credit card that was used to purchase the Chinese takeaway meals Beckett had ordered some uniforms to go and pick her up. That task would have normally been the job of Esposito and Ryan but they had their own case to work and were unavailable. The owner of the card was now sitting in one of the interrogation rooms.

I had barely sat down in my seat before Beckett filled me in. I could not help but wonder how much sleep Beckett had gotten because she would have been here until well after two in the morning. Still she managed to look as fresh as a daisy this morning.

On entering the interrogation room I found a smartly dressed blonde woman, aged in her early thirties. She was attractive and her name was Brandy Rossi. Not the kind of name for a lawyer I would have suggested, it was more a stripper name. But I digress.

Beckett apologised to Brandy for keeping her waiting as she and I took our seats opposite the lawyer. Then she wasted little time in getting down to business. She produced the evidence bag that contained the Chinese takeaway meal receipt and pushed it over to Brandy asking her if that was her credit card.

Brandy picked up the evidence bag and examined the receipt.

"Yes, Detective, that's my credit card." Brandy confirmed. "I had diner with her last night." Brandy put the evidence down on the table.

"She's my best friend. When I left her there, she was alive." She added.

"What time did you leave, Ms Rossi?" Beckett asked.

"Around seven."

"Then where did you go?" I asked.

"To drinks with other associates from my firm." Brandy said. "I was at Ganesvoort bar until eleven."

"Did you make plans to have dinner together or did you just show up?" Beckett said.

"She called me. She said she wanted to talk. But I...I didn't...I didn't know."

"You didn't know what?"

"I should have said something. I should have done something, you know? I..."

"Why did she call, Ms Rossi?" Beckett pressed.

"She needed my advice, as a lawyer." Brandy informed us. "Something happened last Friday night, something bad."

"What?"

Brandy shook her head before she spoke. "She wouldn't say. But I knew it was one of her patients. She wanted to know how to get a restraining order."

"Against who?"

"Whom." I corrected Beckett.

That earned me a glare of annoyance.

"She wouldn't say." Brandy said. "God, I should have stayed with her. I shouldn't have let her off the hook."

Beckett got Brandy's statement down on paper before letting her go.

XXX

I was sitting in my seat and watched as Beckett was on the phone. After having emerged from the interrogation room Beckett had Detective Karpowski check out Brandy Rossi's alibi while she rang Jason Cosway. The call with the widower lasted about ten or so minutes. Beckett finished the call and put the phone down. She turned to look at me.

"Looks like Ashley took her oath seriously." Beckett announced. "Her husband had no idea that something bad had happen on Friday."

"Doctor-patient privilege is supposed to protect people, not get them killed." I remarked.

Beckett gathered up her portfolio and a couple of files, then rose to her feet. I was on my feet as well and started following Beckett. In the hallway Karpowski appeared and fell into step with Beckett.

"Hey, so the vic's girlfriend? Alibi's good." Karpowski reported. "Co-workers confirm that she arrived for drinks at 7.15, left at 11.00. The husband's buddy places him at the Garden from seven till ten."

"Which leaves us with Friday's patients." Beckett announced. She handed over a thick file to Karpowski.

Karpowski nodded her head turned and headed back the way we had come. With Ryan and Esposito working the other case, Beckett had gotten Karpowski to assist her. Karpowski had been tasked with checking out the alibis.

"I sure would like a peek at Dr Cosway's notes." I said.

"Not without a warrant." Beckett informed me. "We start by running the names. He threatened and then killed her, he's probably got violent priors."

We were heading towards the break room. The door to the break room opened, Ryan and Esposito emerged escorting an African American couple, who we soon learned were Christina and Eric Marx, the daughter and son-in-law of the victim the boys were investigating.

"Once again, Mr and Mrs Marx, I'm sorry for your loss." Esposito said to the couple.

Mr and Mrs Marx walked past me heading for the elevator. Both Esposito and Ryan flashed me smug grins as they headed for their desks. Beckett had gone into the break room and was making herself a cup of coffee. I quickly dashed back into the bullpen and over to Ryan's desk.

"And a dark cloud descends." Ryan remarked, still smirking.

"Any hot leads?" I asked the boys.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Ryan said. "Turns out our victim went for a walk every night."

"And guess who hangs in the park right where our victim popped?" Esposito added.

I will admit that I might have been a little concerned when I saw the smug look on the boys' faces that they might have caught a break on the case which might lead them to solving it before Beckett and I solved ours. I was not afraid of losing a hundred dollars, I was more concerned about the bragging rights. I had a sneaking suspicion that the boys would not be backwards in coming forwards in bragging.

"Recently fired postal workers?" I suggested.

"No. Gang kids. Very rough guys." Esposito said firmly, and smugly.

I almost let out a sigh of relief on hearing this. I certainly struggled to restrain the smile that wanted to appear on my face.

"Do they hang out there regularly?" I inquired.

"That's right." Ryan said.

"Then they didn't do it." I said firmly. "If they're known to hang out there, then they're going to know they're going to get caught. If they're going to do something, they're going to do it elsewhere."

"I know what you're doing, Castle. You're trying to mess with our confidence." Ryan accused.

"If I was trying to mess with your confidence," I said smiling. "I would tell you that our victim talked to her lawyer friend on the night she was murdered about a restraining order."

It pleased me no end to see that the smug looks had been wiped from their faces. They were now frowning at me. I smiled a little more.

"And do you have a suspect?" Esposito asked.

"We're narrowing it down." I replied confidently. "But doesn't it have a lovely ring to it?"

I started to sing and do a little dance as I moved away.

"Restraining order, restraining order..."

I turned around and stopped suddenly, almost crashing into Beckett who was holding a cup of coffee and wearing the coffee. She instantly gave me a curious look.

"Hey." I said, trying not to look guilty and not doing a particularly good job of it.

"Hey." Beckett said slowly.

"I was just...uh...they...there was two..." I stammered.

There was a suspicious look on Beckett's face as if she was wondering what I was up to and not really wanting to know.

"Yeah." She said.

"Beckett." Karpowski called out as she approached. "We got a hit."

I was silently grateful for the sudden interruption. I did not think I could keep it from Beckett what I had been doing if she had pressed the matter.

Karpowski handed Beckett a slip of paper. Beckett looked at the paper.

"Hal Ross?" She said.

"Multiple assault charges over the last ten years. He and his wife were Dr Cosway's two o'clock Friday."

Beckett's face brightened with this piece of news that just had been handed her. She put down her coffee cup on her desk and grabbed her jacket. She started walking for the elevator. I hurried to catch up with her. We were half way to the elevator when Ryan and Esposito became animated and left their desks, also making their way to the elevator.

The boys were half way to the elevator when Beckett and I got in. I punched the close button and the doors responded immediately for a change and quickly started closing.

"What are you doing?" Esposito called out.

"Hey! Hey! Castle!" Ryan shouted. The doors closed on the boys. "Not cool!"

Beckett she looked at me.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?" I said, feigning innocence.

Beckett narrowed her eyes at me.

"Castle?"

I was not about to tell Beckett the reason behind my actions, the warning that if she found out about the bet I had made with the boys she would shoot us all still resonated in my head. Yet I did not want to lie to her.

"You don't want to know." I told her simply.

Beckett regarded me carefully for a few moments. I could see that she was still suspicious but was not going worry about it right at the moment. She nodded her head and then turned to face the doors and waited for the elevator to reach the lobby.

XXX

Our destination was Brooklyn and in particular a butcher shop that was owned by Hal Ross. We pulled up to the curb and got out of the car. I was feeling pretty confident as we approached the shop.

"Alright, I'm going to say it." I said. "I've got a feeling. Doesn't happen often, but I am feeling this our guy."

Beckett shot me a quizzical look but did not say anything in reply to what I had just said.

On entering the shop we found Hal Ross standing by a chopping block wielding a rather large meat cleaver and hacking into a slab of beef. Ross was a baulky looking man of average height and silver hair.

An assistant was standing beside him.

"Mr Ross?" Beckett said as she held up her badge.

Ross paused in his work and looked up. On seeing the badge he frowned.

"What's up? Garbage on my pavement again?" He said. Then he resumed chopping the meat.

"Would you mind putting that down." Beckett ordered.

Annoyance swept across Ross' face. He brought down the meat cleaver hard into the beef and left it there. He wiped his hands on his bloodied apron and came around from the chopping block. His assistant moved over and took over the job of chopping up the beef. Ross motioned for us to head outside.

"Where were you last night between the hours..." I paused and looked to Beckett. "When was that again?"

"What are you talking about?" Ross demanded. He had paused beside the fruit stall next to his shop and looked at the both of us.

"Are you familiar with Ashley Cosway?" Beckett asked.

"Well, yeah, sure. The Doc."

"Well, sure was murdered last night." I said.

"What?"

There was surprise on Ross' face on being told that news. At the time I thought he was faking it because like I said I had a good feeling this was our guy.

"The Doc's dead?" Ross said.

"Can you confirm your whereabouts between 7.30 and 9.00 last night?" Beckett asked.

It took Ross a moment to shake off the initial shock.

"Yeah, sure." He replied. "I was here. I'm open till ten every night."

"Can anyone corroborate that?"

"My employees."

"How convenient that your alibis are on your payroll." I replied glibly.

"What would make you think that I killed the Doc?"

"Mr Ross, you have a history of violence. Assault, battery." Beckett pointed out.

"Okay, well, why do you think I was in..." Ross' anger was rising. He saw the look on Beckett's face and he remembered himself and quickly calmed down. "...therapy? Doc Cosway showed me that I was only hurting myself." He added a little more evenly.

I wasn't buying this. I didn't want to buy this, come on? Who was the guy trying to kid? The guy had a history of violence. He just showed us, ever so briefly, that he was quick to anger.

"Come on, Hal, we know something bad happened last Friday. Come on." I said, a little too aggressively. Beckett shot me a look that was something between 'What the hell?' and 'Castle, cool it'.

Ross looked at me and then at Beckett.

"Something happened alright." He conceded. "But it wasn't in my session. Uh-uh. You want to talk to somebody, you try the appointment before mine."

"Why is that?" Beckett asked.

"Judy and I , we were in the little waiting room before our session, we hear all this yelling." Ross explained.

"About what?"

"I don't know." Ross said. "But this guy was cursing Doc Cosway out big time. And it was kind of scary. I was tempted to go in there, but then we heard the guy leave."

"Did you get a good look at his face?"

Ross shook his face. "No, no, no, he went out the hallway door. Doc Cosway got us, she was rattled, but she did our session anyway."

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I listened to Hal Ross. That little tingling of excitement I had felt when we had gotten out of the car, thinking that this was our guy, was gone. I turned to look at Beckett.

"I got a feeling this isn't our guy." I told her.

Beckett rolled her eyes but chose to remain silent.

XXX

On returning to the precinct Beckett and I went straight to the conference room. Karpowski joined us. We were sitting at the conference table, me on one side of Beckett and Karpowski on the other. We were going through Dr Cosway's appointment book. Both Beckett and Karpowski were wearing gloves as they went through the book.

"Hinkle, Evan Hinkle." Beckett said. "He's had the appointment before the Ross' every week for the last two years."

"Yeah the guy's clean. There's no record of anything." Karpowski replied.

"Two straight years of therapy, maybe he just snapped." I suggested.

"Have uniforms bring him in." Beckett ordered. She rose to her feet. "I'm going to get a coffee." She grabbed her empty coffee mug and left the room.

Beckett was out the door when I started to rise to my feet. I could have used a coffee too. Suddenly Karpowski slammed her hand on the table and looked at me. It had me sitting back down in my chair.

"Esposito tipped me off to the bet." Karpowski said as she looked over her shoulder to the open door. She then turned back to look at me. "Thought I'd toss a little towards ours." She held up a folded fifty dollar bill.

A small smile appeared on my face as I reached out and took the offered money. "Toss away, my friend." I said as I pocketed the money. "And spread the word around, if anyone else wants a taste."

On exiting the conference room I caught sight of Esposito and Ryan escorting a big burly man in the direction of one of the interrogation rooms. I was suddenly alarmed and dashed across the bullpen over to them. Ryan slid across to block my view of the interrogation room.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I thought you said you guys were looking for a gang member, like a teenager?" I said.

Ryan beamed very smugly as he looked at me.

"You were right." Ryan said. "They alibied out."

"So, who's in the cuffs?" I asked, as I peered over Ryan and into the interrogation room to the suspect who was being directed to sit down by Esposito. If first impressions were anything to go by, he looked guilty as sin. This did not bode well for me.

"He's just a mugger who happened to be working in the same area the same night our vic was killed." Ryan smirked. He seemed to take inordinate pleasure in letting me know.

"Oh yeah, he was picked up with a .45 on him." Esposito added as he emerged from the interrogation room. He too had a smug look on his face. "Which happens to be the same round that was found in our vic. Just waiting on ballistics. Unless he confesses first."

"So where's his lawyer?" I said. Now, I might have asked that question a little loudly.

Esposito hurriedly closed the door on the interrogation room then turned to shoot me a glare.

"Oh whoa, whoa." Ryan said. "He hasn't asked for one."

"Well, I know a guy." I offered.

"Oh what's the matter, Castle? Are you getting worried?" Esposito challenged.

"Worried? Worried?" I scoffed. "I'll make you cry."

"You want to bet? Or maybe double down?" Ryan offered.

"No, no, no. Not money." Esposito interjected, with a smile on his face. "Humiliation. Loser wears a dress to the precinct for a week."

"Why stop there?" Ryan added, glancing at his partner before turning to look at me. "Loser shaves his head."

I was a little surprised by that and it must have shown on my face.

"Or are you chicken?" He added.

I was a little surprised how evil the boys could be. I have to say that I was impressed. Had it been any other time I might even have complimented them on it. There was one thing Esposito nor Ryan did not know. I don't do humiliation. At least not unless it is self inflicted. And I am a master of that, but that's another story. I considered the challenge that had been thrown down at my feet. As I was considering it I happen to look over my shoulder and saw Beckett standing a short distance away talking to a uniform.

If there was a moment of hesitance or lack of confidence it was quickly banished the moment I saw Beckett. There was no way I was going to lose this bet, no way in the world. I worked with the best Homicide detective in the NYPD, whose clearance rate was second to none. I was certain that we would find the killer of Dr Cosway before the boys found their murderer. I turned back to look at Ryan.

"You're on, honey-milk." I hissed.

"Honey-milk?" Esposito sniggered.

"Damn it." Ryan grouched.

I left the boys to their interrogation and strolled over to join Beckett. I will admit that I was a tuch concerned that the boys might get a confession from the guy they had brought in. I mean stranger things have happened before. I offered up a little silent prayer for help from the Universe.

XXX

Evan Hinkle was a weedy looking character, thin with a long face which was not helped with the dishevelled hair and goatee beard. I had been standing up while Beckett conducted the interrogation. I was not liking the way the interrogation was going. Hinkle was not very forthcoming with answers. Okay, I was getting anxious that the boys might get a confession out of their guy before Beckett and I did from Hinkle. Not a good scenario in my book, nor for that matter having me walking around in a dress and a shaved head.

We had been playing good cop and silent writer for a little while but the time had come for a new routine; good cop and bad writer, or at least good cop and mildly irritated writer. I eased off the wall I had been leaning on and stood over Hinkle, like some cops do on those cops shows. I don't know who was more surprised by my action, Hinkle or Beckett. I could feel her eyes on me but I did not look at her.

"For the record, Mr Hinkle, you're admitting that you were Dr Cosway's one o'clock appointment?" I said forcefully.

"I knew this would happen." Hinkle replied. "I knew it. The first time I met her, I knew she'd leave me. Why does this always happen? Why do people keep leaving me?" I kept my face neutral to this whining as I sat down.

"She didn't leave you, Mr Hinkle. She was murdered." Beckett pointed out.

"Yeah, just like my first wife." Hinkle huffed.

"Your first wife was murdered?" I said.

There was a hopeful look on my face on hearing this.

"That's right." Hinkle said. "I smothered her to death."

Oh be still my beating heart, I thought to myself. I was already picturing the look on the boys' faces when we came out the interrogation room with a signed confession and Hinkle in handcuffs. What's that old saying, 'Don't count your chickens...?'

"Yeah, that's what she told me." Hinkle continued. "I murdered her with love. That's why she left."

I looked at the guy incredulously. Beckett too could not believe what she just heard.

"Just tell us about your last appointment with Dr Cosway." Beckett told him.

"We were just starting to make progress." Hinkle said. "You know the irony here? Her death is my moment of greatest crisis and I don't have her to lean on."

I rolled my eyes at that statement but wisely remained silent.

"What was all the screaming about at that appointment last Friday?" Beckett continued.

"Screaming? Last Friday?" Hinkle said looking confused. "I did not see her last Friday."

"You're in the books." I said. "You're, with an apostrophe."

"Yeah, well I cancelled an hour before." Hinkle informed us.

"You cancelled?" Beckett said with some surprise.

Hinkle nodded his head. "Yes, yes. I was having chest pains. I went to ER at St Vincent's. $15,000 later, turns out I was just having a panic attack, about Mother, you know."

I was now convinced that the Universe did not like me. Why else would she send us the hypochondriac from Hell to torment us? Visions of me bald and in a dress slowly began to make their appearance in my head. It was not a pretty sight.

"I think we're done here." Beckett sighed, ending the interview. "Thank you."

Hinkle rose to his feet and started to move towards the door. He paused a moment and looked down at Beckett.

"Thank you. You know, at least Dr Cosway didn't charge me for cancelling last minute." Hinkle said.

"Why not?" Beckett asked him.

"Oh, she said she was going to have lunch with her husband, so it was time well spent."

"Thank you, Mr Hinkle." Beckett said.

Hinkle had reached the door and opened it. That's when I spoke up.

"Oh and by the way, it's a common mistake, but it's not ironic that Dr Cosway's not here for you to lean on. It's just simply tragic. It would be ironic if her death made you feel better." I lectured.

"Castle." Beckett chided.

Well, I could not help myself, and maybe I was being spiteful for Hinkle turning out not to be our killer so I lectured him on the meaning of irony. Hopefully he wont make the same mistake next time.

Realising that I was detaining Hinkle, I motioned to him to leave.

When Hinkle left and closed the door behind him Beckett glanced at the door before she rounded on me and gave me a hard look.

"What's with the super-cop?" She demanded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I replied quickly.

I could tell that Beckett was in the mood to press the matter and extract the reason for my behaviour and in my current state I would probably be singing like a canary. However, the vision of me, bald and in a dress grew a little stronger and I quickly steered her back to our case by suggesting it might be a good idea if she checked out Hinkle's story about Ashley Cosway having lunch with her husband on Friday.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The Case of The Double Down

Part 3

I was standing in the bullpen talking to a uniform who wanted in on the bet. Karpowski was with us trying to convince the uniform to join 'Team Beckett'. She told the uni that she was in for $50. The uni said he would back 'Team Beckett' for fifty.

While this was going on Beckett was standing at her desk talking on the phone. She finished her call and started coming towards us. Karpowski spotted her and warned us. Karpowski and the uni moved off while I turned and approached Beckett.

"So what you got?" I asked, not giving her time to ask what Karpowski and I were doing.

I could tell she was getting very curious over my suspicious behaviour so I resorted to misdirection to throw her off the scent, hence the question I tossed her. Not for a moment was I so foolish to think I would get away with this betting. She is too sharp for that. I was merely trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

Beckett regarded me a moment before she spoke.

"I just got a ping on Ashley's credit card. Lunch charge at Petite Bistro right next door to her office." Beckett reported. "The hostess confirmed that Ashley and Jason were having lunch there on Friday. And the only reason she remembers it is because they making kind of a scene."

My disposition suddenly brightened on hearing the news.

"He's our screamer." I said.

"They were arguing all the way back to the office." Beckett added.

"He's the one she was getting a restraining order against." I declared.

"Jason's alibi that he was at the game with his friend feel a little squishy to you?"

"Like a wormy apple."

Beckett nodded her head and then turned to look at Karpowski who had returned to her desk.

"Hey, Karpowski?"

"Yo!"

"Why don't we take a better look at Jason Cosway? Work situation, financials and hotel bills." Beckett ordered.

"Yeah, okay. Copy that." Karpowski replied.

While Becckett was issuing orders to Karpowski I caught sight of Detective Dettwiler standing a short distance away. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill and showed it to me. I gave him a nod of the head and then motioned that I would meet him in the break room.

Beckett turned back to me just as I was turning to look at her.

"Want a coffee?" I offered.

"No thanks."

Beckett moved over to the murder board and began to study it. I quickly made my way over to the break room where Detective Dettwiler was waiting. A few more detectives came in and said they wanted in on the bet. I was more than happy to take all their money.

Beckett had moved the photo of Jason Cosway from the person of interest heading and placed him under the suspect column. She began to update the murder board with the new information she had garnered from Hinkle, the credit card check and the hostess she had spoken to on the phone. As she was doing this she caught sight of some detectives and uniforms staring at her. When she turned her attention to them those guys scattered like frightened mice.

A few minutes later she caught another uniform staring at her. Officer Stegner quickly made an excuse about having to file some stuff before she too scurried away. It was while she was watching Stegner's rapid departure that Beckett spotted me in the break room with a couple of detectives and accepting money form them.

She came flying swiftly into the break room and snatched the envelope crammed with everyone's money from out of my hand.

"Nobody move!" She ordered. Everyone froze in their spots.

I was rather surprised how quickly she had come swooping in. I had not even heard her coming. Like a ninja she was. A rather angry looking ninja to be exact.

"What's this?" She demanded waving the envelope.

"Girl scout cookie orders." I replied quickly.

"Huh, girl scout cookie orders?" she said but her face was telling me she was not buying that explanation.

"Yeah, I'm just helping out the troop." I said adding a shrug of the shoulders to show that it was no big deal. The guys in the break room nodded their heads vigorously backing me up.

"Funny, I didn't realise that Alexis was a Girl Scout."

Beckett turned and started walking out of the break room.

"Oh I know, she's got so many activities, I can barely keep track." I said as I caught up to her.

Walking through the hallway Ryan and Esposito appeared and the boys were not looking at all happy. We all headed for the bullpen.

"Freaking great." Ryan growled angrily.

"What happened?" I asked as the boys reached their desks.

"Ballistics screwed us." Esposito and Ryan said simultaneously.

"Our mugger's gun doesn't match the bullet taken from our vic." Ryan added.

Beckett chose that moment to walk in front of them waving the envelope containing the betting money. Standing behind Beckett I made hand motions trying to tell the boys that Beckett had found out.

"What's going on?" Ryan asked, trying to sound innocent, after catching on to my hands signals.

"Betting on murder cases, guys? Really?" Beckett said glaring at the boys.

"That be wrong." Esposito replied.

"What? No." Ryan assured her.

"I'm telling you, it's Girl Scout cookies ord..." I said.

Beckett rounded on me and levelled a glare that I will admit had me quaking a little.

"Girl Scout cookies are sold in February." Beckett said tersely, cutting me off. She turned to look at Esposito and Ryan. "You guys should be ashamed of yourselves. Now get back to work."

Beckett walked off heading to her murder board. Both Ryan and Esposito shot me questioning looks and I quick made assuring gestures that I would take care of it.

Girl Scout cookie orders was the first thing that had popped into my head when Beckett had swooped in like a ninja and caught me taking bets. Had I a bit more warning I guess I might have been able to come up with a better excuse. I should have known Beckett would have been up to speed about when Girl Scout cookies are sold.

I walked over to the murder board where Beckett was making a notation on the board with a marker pen. Beckett still looked angry.

"Listen, I'm sorry." I said with sincerity. "I know it was wrong."

The angry look on Beckett's face softened a little at my apology.

"I just thought..."

"Beckett, you are not going to believe this." Karpowski called out, interrupting me.

Beckett turned away from me to look at Karpowski who was approaching.

"Yeah, well the bar on 'unbelieveavle' is pretty high right now." Beckett remarked drily.

"Vic's husband took out a three million dollar life insurance policy on his wife last month." Karpowski informed her.

Beckett turned to face me suddenly. She held up the envelope containing the betting money.

"One hundred on us." She announced.

I blinked at her, surprised at her sudden and unexpected declaration. I smiled as I took the envelope from her. My smile deepened as Beckett walked off. Dare I say it? It was a victory smile. I glanced in the direction where Esposito and Ryan sitting. They were too busy to notice I was watching them.

For a moment I almost felt sorry for the boys. That feeling quickly passed as I walked away.

XXX

A couple of hours later Jason Cosway was sitting in the interrogation room. He had been brought in by uniforms. Beckett went at him like a terrier with a bone. She was standing over him and going at him. I was standing by the two way mirror watching Beckett doing her thing.

"Look, um, the insurance policy was Ashley's idea, okay?" Cosway said as he rubbed his forehead.

"Okay, fine Jason. It was Ashley's idea." Beckett shot back. "Can anyone confirm that?"

"Yes, I'm sure someone can. Maybe a friend." Cosway suggested.

"Well, her best friend Brandy had no idea about the life insurance." Beckett said stridently. "But she did know about a restraining order that your wife was trying to get against you."

"That's insane." Caosway exclaimed. "That is absolutely ridiculous.

"You want to tell us about last Friday?"

"What about last Friday?" Cosway looked confused.

"About the screaming match at lunch that led all the way back to her office? We have multiple witnesses, Jason."

While Beckett was grilling Cosway like a hamburger patty on a hotplate I pulled out a pen and notepad from my pocket and started writing on it.

"Okay, great. You have witnesses. We had a fight." Cosway said angrily. "You know what that proves? We're married."

"What did you fight about?" Beckett demanded.

"I don't know what the fight was about. I can't remember."

"See, I'm having a hard time believing that."

Having finished writing on the notepad I turned it and held it up to the mirror. I had written:

_'Beckett is in on the bet. You're toast!'_

I was showing the note to Esposito and Ryan who were in the observation room watching the interrogation.

"How does he even know we're watching?" Ryan asked his partner in disbelief.

"Ah. No wonder she's going after him so hard." Esposito replied.

"I was at a basketball game." Cosway said emphatically.

"Oh, yes. That's right, with your frat buddy, Skip." I said. "Yes, juries do love it when friends alibi friends."

"Why don't you get the hotdog guy to vouch for me? If you trust him." Cosway retorted sarcastically.

I turned away from the window and walked to the table.

"What was your seat number?" I asked him.

"What? Excuse me?" Cosway looked confused.

I sat down in the chair. "Come on, it was just last night. Don't tell me you don't remember?"

"They were...They were Skip's tickets." Cosway replied. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Don't tell me for one second you didn't have to get up during that lame halftime show and remember what section to go back to?" I pressed.

"The only thing I remember is the fact we were sitting right behind the home bench." Cosway said tersely.

"Ah, okay." I said, sounding like I did not believe him.

In the observation room Ryan snorted.

"You ever have seats like that?"

"Yeah, right." Esposito scoffed.

A thought struck Ryan. He turned away from the window and started walking out of the observation room. Esposito followed him.

"So, divorce isn't an option." I remarked.

"Divorce? Divorce?!" Cosway said with anger. "I didn't want a divorce, okay pal? And I didn't kill my wife."

Beckett had another go at Cosway but the guy did not break. I was reluctant to admit it but he was good. He did not look anywhere near to cracking. I hated that little smug look on his face when he knew that we had nothing to pin the murder on him.

Beckett and I emerged from the interrogation room empty handed. Beckett was forced to release Cosway. We walked through the hallway back to Beckett's desk.

"So, can we charge him?" I asked.

"We still need evidence." Beckett replied.

I was afraid Beckett was going to say that.

"I'm going to get a warrant for his apartment and see what turns up." Beckett added, almost as if she had read my thoughts.

We were passing the break room when Beckett stopped suddenly. I had to stop quickly or I would have crash into her.

"Are they watching TV?" Beckett asked, pointing into the break room.

I looked into the break room and saw both Ryan and Esposito lounging in their seats as they watched the TV mounted on the wall. They were eating chips.

"I'm afraid they've thrown in the proverbial towel." I replied.

We both walked into the break room.

"Hey, guys." Beckett said.

"Everything okay?" I added.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, just enjoying last night's game." Esposito informed us.

"Yeah, isn't it great when you can get it on demand?" Ryan said with a smile.

"Ooh, I love this part." Esposito said excitedly. "Check it out."

On the TV the announcer informed the audience that there was another time out.

"That's their third time out." Ryan remarked.

"Yeah, already. They're just barely halfway through the first half." Esposito added.

Ryan picked up the remote. "Yeah, that would be, what, just before eight o'clock?" Ryan said glancing at his partner.

"Yeah." Esposito agreed.

Ryan paused the action on the TV. Beckett and I turned our gaze up to the TV. There in glorious colour was a close up shot of Jason Cosway sitting just where he said he had been sitting at the basketball game, behind the home bench. Beckett's jaw dropped in disbelief. Slowly she turned to look at the boys.

"That's Jason Cosway." She muttered.

"Mmm-mmmm" Esposito murmured, nodding his head.

Beckett and I exchanged looks of disbelief.

"And I believe that, my friends, is the definition of an air tight alibi." Ryan said smugly.

Esposito turned his attention in my direction and pointed to me.

"Castle, what size dress do you wear? Six? Eight?"

Ryan shook his head.

"Sixteen, yeah" Esposito said. Ryan smiled as he nodded his head.

I was feeling more than a little unsettled on leaving the precinct to head home. I could not believe that Cosway had an alibi for his wife's murder. I was sure it was him, so was Beckett. Thanks to that vision from the basketball game we were now back to square one. The vision of me in a dress had all of a sudden become a waking nightmare. If that was not bad enough, there had been that chorus of smug sniggering from Esposito and Ryan.

My sleep that night was more than a little disturbed with dreams of _The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of The Desert, Tootsie _and _Mrs Doubtfire._

XXX

The following morning I was walking through the dining room when my gaze caught sight of Mother's dresses draped over the back of a chair covered in clear plastic. She must have picked up from the dry cleaner's yesterday and had forgotten she had left it there. I was going to keep on walking but I paused and moved towards it. The bet with the boys still weighed heavily on my mind.

I still had every faith in Beckett's ability as well as my own in solving the case, despite the setbacks we had suffered. I had jumped out of bed this morning with the ironclad belief that Beckett and I would win the bet. Having said that, there was still the possibility, however remote it was, that Beckett and I would lose the bet.

Carefully I picked up Mother's dress from the back of the chair. I held it up in front of me and checked out my appearance in the nearby reflection.

"Dad?" Alexis said hesitantly.

At the sound of my darling daughter's voice I startled. I immediately dropped the dress and spun around to face her, trying very hard not to look guilty.

"Mm-hmm. Yes. You okay?"

There was a confused look on Alexis's face, as if she was wondering whether to ask me why I had been holding up the dress and looking at my reflection. She quickly shook her head, deciding that it would far better not to ask.

"Have you ever been really sure about something and then have it all fall apart?" Alexis asked as she came over and sat down on one of the chairs. There was a troubled look on her face that had nothing to do with me.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." I said slowly. "Owen?"

"It was a train wreck." Alexis sighed.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. Concern covered my face as I looked at my daughter.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Thalia."

"What's a Thalia?"

"Some perky girl with..." Alexis held both her hand out in front her. "...teeth."

I nodded my head in understanding.

"She came over to our table gushing about how she and Owen went to Camp Chumash together third grade summer and how she was his first crush. The whole night was one big walk down memory lane."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." I said gently.

"And the weird part was that Owen didn't even remember her. Not that it stopped him from being totally into it. I mean, even in the taxi back, he kept saying how amazing it was that they met after all these years at Serendipity. How it was so..."

"Serendipitous." Alexis and I said at the same time.

"How am I supposed to compete with that?" Alexis said with a sad smile.

I pulled Alexis into a hug and kissed the top of her head. I really hated seeing Alexis looking hurt.

"Sorry." I whispered.

I delayed my departure to the precinct so that I could cheer up my darling daughter and to assure her that everything would be alright.

I was riding in the elevator up to the homicide floor when my phone started ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and answered it. The caller was Beckett. It was an anxious sounding Beckett demanding to know where I was.

The door of the elevator slowly slid open as I responded to Beckett.

"I'm in the elevator right..." I paused and turned to step out of the elevator only to find Beckett standing there. "...now." I hung up the phone.

"Where have you been?" Beckett asked.

"Apologising for the male race." I replied. I had a feeling that would be something I would be doing quite a lot of in the years to come.

I noticed the anxious look on Beckett's face.

"We catch a break?" I asked hopefully.

"No. But the boys did."

We started down the hallway for the bullpen.

"Another mugger?" I asked.

"I don't know but they were pretty hot on something."

I did not like the sound of that.

Entering the bullpen we walked over to the boys' desk. Esposito was finishing up on a call and when he put the phone down he high-fived his partner.

"What? What do you have?" I asked anxiously.

"Why don't you go ahead and give them a little taste, bro." Esposito urged his partner. Ryan smiled that big smile of his which I was starting to dislike with a real passion.

"Turns out our vic had a rent controlled apartment." Ryan informed us. "Stays in the family, it stay rent controlled."

"$562 a month. Three bedrooms." Esposito added.

"I'd kill for that." Beckett muttered.

"According to a neighbour, vic's son-in-law borrowed money from the old man a bunch of times over the years, but recently cut him off." Ryan said.

"Son-in-law..." I said in a low voice.

Ryan's phone started ringing. He quickly answered it.

"Really? Yeah, we're on it." Ryan rang off and tapped Esposito. "Come on."

"Something good?" Esposito asked.

"Let's go."

Both Ryan and Esposito jumped to their feet and started moving rapidly out of the bullpen.

"Well, what is it?" Beckett called out.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Ryan called across the bullpen before he turned and scurried to catch up to his partner.

"Hey, come on!" I shouted but to no avail. I slumped against the desk behind me and looked at Beckett. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Are we really rooting against solving a murder?" Beckett questioned.

"Well I don't want to shave my head, do you?"

"Why would I shave my head?" Beckett said looking at me with some concern.

"You're in on the bet, aren't you?"

Beckett's desk phone started ringing.

"Yeah." She said as she reached for the phone. "But I didn't realise..."

I imitated the motion of using a buzz-clipper including the requisite noise. A horrified look appeared on Beckett's face as she stared at me and put the phone to her ear. This was part of the bet I had not told her about. I had mentioned about the loser having to wear a dress to the precinct for a week. Beckett in a dress at work? That was a rarity and I guess something we males would look forward to. But the shaving of the head? That particular item I kind of neglected to inform her about.

Let me just say for the record, there was no way, no how in this wide world I was going to let Beckett to shave her head if by some chance we were to lose this bet with the boys. I did not want her to sport a Sinead O'Conner look. I had grown rather fond of her dark brown tresses. I had made the original bet with the boys, and if we lost, I would honour the bet. At this point in time, Beckett did not need to know that. A bit of motivation is a wonderful thing.

"Okay." Beckett said into the phone. The horrified look on her face had vanished and was replaced with a smile. Something which I preferred to see. "We'll be right there."

Beckett put the phone down and smiled at me.

"Lanie just found something in the forensic report." She announced as she started heading out of the bullpen. I could not help but notice that she was biting on her lip when she smiled. It looked cute.

"Well, I hope it's better than the son-in-law." I told her as I followed.

We made pretty good time getting to the ME's office despite the traffic. On the ride over I pestered Beckett about what Lanie had found in the forensic report. Beckett answered truthfully saying that she did not know as Lanie had not told her during the call. Then Beckett turned our conversation in the direction of the shaved head portion of the bet. I had no option but to tell her the truth about the full details of the bet I had made with the boys. This earned me one of her patterned death glares. I quickly assured her that she would not have to shave her head if we lost. It would be all on me. That seemed to mollify her, thankfully.

Beckett and I were walking through the hallway towards Lanie's office. I held up my hand to slow Beckett down when I heard Ryan's voice coming through a pair of swinging doors. Beckett too recognised the voice and she slowed down and then came to a halt. Ryan was on the phone.

"And you sure it was them?" Ryan said. "Okay, thanks."

"I don't even want to know." Esposito said unhappily.

"Two bartenders and the manager put Frank's son-in-law, and his daughter Christina, uptown at their friend Eddie;s birthday party at Dublin House from 9.15 till after midnight. Dude if I have to shave my head, it's going on you." Ryan said unhappily.

It's amazing how sound travels in these corridors. Beckett and I shared a grin before I motioned her forward, as if to say: 'Shall we?' Beckett nodded her head. We pushed through swinging door and found a pair of unhappy looking detectives standing outside Lanie's autopsy room.

"What are you doing here?" I said feigning surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Esposito replied, looking surprised.

"Lanie called us." Beckett said.

"No, she called us." Esposito retorted.

"Yeah." Ryan added.

Lanie emerged from the autopsy room and looked at all of us.

"Actually, I called both of you." Lanie announced. "I think your cases might be related."

XXX

Lanie showed us into the autopsy suite and to my surprise and that of the others we found Dr Perlmutter standing at head of one of the autopsy tables. A table that was currently empty of a body. We gathered on the either side of the table while Lanie walked over to stand beside Perlmutter.

"Perlmutter was giving me the rundown on Ryan and Esposito's mugging case when a certain forensic detail popped out at me." Lanie informed us.

"Orthosilicic acid." Perlmutter said.

"Ortho what-now?" I replied looking confused.

"It's the fancy term for saltwater compound." Lanie explained.

"That's not very specific." Beckett pointed out.

"True." Lanie agreed with a nod of her head. "But we identified the diatoms in the sample as well, which makes it extremely specific. It narrows it down to a single body of water."

"So our guy took a swim." Esposito remarked.

"Not quite. It was only trace amounts." Lanie corrected him. "But we found Orthosilic acid on Ashley Cosway as well."

"Both victims had contact with the same body of water?" I said.

"Direct contact." Lanie confirmed.

That particular morsel of information started me thinking.

"What are the odds?" Ryan asked.

"It'd be like finding the same fingerprint on both bodies." Perlmutter advised.

"Do we know what body of water?" Beckett asked.

"No, I would need a sample to test it against." Lanie ssaid.

Suddenly I raised my hand like a school kid waiting to be called by the teacher.

"Castle." Lanie said, sounding like a teacher.

"Could it be a small body of water?" I asked.

"Sure. As long as it's salt water." Lanie said.

I reached over and took Beckett's portfolio and opened it. Finding the file containing the crime scene photos I opened it and flipped through the photos till I found the one I was looking for. It was a close up of Dr Cosway's fish tank with a Clown fish in the foreground.

"Dr Cosway's fish tank." I said pointing to the photo. "Check out Nemo, Clown fish need salt water to live."

Everyone peered down at the photo I had found.

"Okay, but how did this get on both our vics?" Beckett said. "Wouldn't they have had to stick their hands in there or something?"

"You see that salt encrustation along the top?" Lanie said pointing to the top of the photo where salt encrustation was visibly prominent.

"Yeah." Beckett said.

"The pump just kicks it into the air." Lanie explained.

"Yeah, anyone who spent time in that office would have trace amounts of that tank's specific salt water compound on them." Perlmutter addded.

Beckett turned to look at me. "So, then, Frank had to have been in Ashley's office some time before he was murdered."

"It's possible." I agreed. "But remember, Ashley was murdered first."

"Then our perp was in there."

"That's where he got the compound on him, then he transferred it to Frank when he took his watch and wallet."

"Which means both our vics were killed by the same person." Beckett declared.

I could not help but smile at Beckett. There was a glint of determination in those hazel eyes of hers as she continued to hold my gaze. I will confess that I felt a little frisson of excitement as we were going back and forth in our theory building. I'm sure Beckett felt it too if the twitching of her lips into a small smile was anything to go by.

The moment was ruined by the sniggering of a pair of adolescents standing on the other side of the autopsy table. Beckett's cheeks started to colour with a a rather adorable shade of pink as she broke off the staring and fixed the boys with a glare. Looking over to where the two M.E.s were standing, I saw Perlmutter looking oblivious but Lanie on the other hand, was wearing a big knowing grin on her face. Beckett shot a glare at her friend as well. I on the other hand grinned even more.

XXX

A couple of hours later Beckett and I were seated in the interview lounge. Sitting directly opposite us were Christina and Eric Marx, off to the side sat Jason Cosway. All three looked a little confused as to why they would be called back into the precinct. Beckett explained to them why they had been asked to come in again.

"I thought Dad was mugged." Christina said.

"Yeah, like randomly." Eric added.

Beckett nodded her head.

"We don't believe it was random anymore." Beckett explained. "Mr Cosway's wife, Ashley, was killed earlier that night. We think the same person killed your father and then tried to stage it as if there two isolated incidents."

"We are trying to find a connection between them." I said.

Beckett picked the photos of the victims from her portfolio. She passed the photo of Ashley Cosway to the Marx's.

"This is Mrs Cosway." Beckett said. She then passed the photo of Frank Anderson over to Jason Cosway. "And this is Mr Anderson. Do either of them look familiar?"

Both Eric and Christina studied the photograph and then slowly shook their heads.

"No, not all. I'm sorry." Cosway said.

"Mrs Cosway was a therapist." Beckett told the Marx's. "Did your father ever go to therapy."

"Dad? No." Christina scoffed. She looked across to Cosway. "No disrespect to your wife, but he didn't really go for that kind of stuff."

Beckett picked up a sheet of paper and glanced at it.

"This is a list of Mrs Cosway's patients. Would you mind taking a look at the names, see if you recognise any of them?" She passed the list over to Christina.

Both Christina and Eric inspected the list of names on the sheet of paper.

"I don't think so." Christina murmured.

"No." Eric said more firmly.

"No." Christina shook her head.

"Take your time." Bckett urged them.

Cosway leaned forward a little in his seat.

"Do you really think there's a connection here?" He said. "I mean, we live in different parts of the city, we work at different places, we're..."

"Go ahead, you can say it, we're black. And you're white." Eric interjected.

"No, no. I'm just saying we're different. That's all I'm saying." Cosway said quickly.

"They may have inadvertently witnessed something or been privy to some information that someone powerful wanted to keep under wraps." I told them.

"There are any number of possibilities, we just want..." Beckett said.

"Grovner." Christina interjected.

"What was that?" I said.

"This name, Grovner." Christina said pointing to the name on the list. "It kind of rings a bell." Christina turned to her husband. "Do you remember, about five years back? Some kid's father shoved him for no reason?"

Eric nodded his head. "Yeah, school security got involved."

"I think his name was Grovner." Christina said as she handed the list back to Beckett.

Beckett glanced at the list again before she looked over to the Marx's.

"We'll get a warrant for his patient file. If there's a connection, we'll find it." She assured the Marx's.

XXX

It was early evening that saw us sitting at Beckett's desk. Beckett herself was on the phone. The warrant for Grovner's patient file had come through and the boys had gone through it as well as doing a check on the guy to see what came up. They had come over to Beckett's desk to brief us on what they had found in the file.

Beckett hung up the phone and looked at us.

"The principal at IS 161 said that Grovner assaulted our vic after Mr Anderson reported him on suspicion of child abuse." Beckett reported.

"Which is why Grovner and his wife went to couples counselling." Ryan said. "Apparently, it didn't go too well though, because they ended up filing for divorce. And get this, Mrs Cosway testified against Grovner in court."

"So Grovner had reason to go after both our victims." I surmised.

"Yeah, went away for five years for domestic abuse." Esposito informed us. He motioned to the file in front of him. "Says right here he was released last month. So what are the odds, huh? Two people from opposite lives being connected by one jack-hole?"

Beckett rose from her seat which was the signal for all of us to start rolling. I got to my feet as did the boys who started gathering their things.

"Just demonstrates that any two people can be connected." Beckett remarked.

"Yeah, like the movie, _Crash._" Ryan said.

"Dude, _Crash_ is overrated." Esposito retorted.

All four of us started making our way through the bullpen towards the elevator.

"Actually, it's more like _Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon_." I pointed out.

As we neared the elevator a thought occurred to me.

"I got a question." I said. "Now that we're all working the same case, does that mean the bet is off?"

"Hell, yeah." Esposito said vehemently.

I can't say that I was too disappointed about that. I was still of the firm belief that Beckett and I would have cracked the case before Esposito and Ryan cracked theirs. The situation had changed now that there we working the same case, we were after the same killer. Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice sighed with great relief now that I did not have to wear a dress at the precinct for an entire week, not to mention having to shave my head.

XXXXX

_**What did you think of this chapter? Drop me a line to let me know.**_

_**Con **_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Case of The Double Down

Part 4

On the ride over to where Grovner was living I reached for my WRITER vest which was laying on the back seat of Beckett's car. What I thought would be an easy task, putting on the vest turned out to be a little bit more difficult than I had anticipated. I caught sight of Beckett pursing her lips trying to suppress a smile at my antics. Eventually I managed to put the vest on and secure it. I made a 'ta dah' sound in the expectation of some applause from Beckett but all I got was a shake of her head and a smile. I'll take that.

With my vest on I got the usual lecture from her about staying behind the boys and herself, and to try and not get into trouble. I made the usual promise to behave myself and obey her orders. There was a sense of anticipation and excitement simmering within me. I didn't think we would have too much trouble in picking up Grovner. There was just the four of us. If Beckett had thought there might be trouble she would have called in for back up, either some uniforms or a Tactical team.

All the same just because experienced police detectives did not anticipate there would be trouble did not mean there wouldn't be. I had been riding along with Beckett and the boys long enough to know that things can go wrong. A simple pick up job can turn into a dangerous or lethal situation in the blink of an eye.

Beckett pulled up in a small parking lot beside the alley where Grovner resided. Right behind us was Esposito's car. A couple of miles before we reached the parking lot Beckett had switched off the siren but left the lights on. Esposito had done the same with his car. We did not want to alert our suspect to our arrival.

I got out of the car and Beckett did too. She popped the trunk and reached for her vest which was residing there. With practised ease she put it on and strapped it up. Esposito had opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a mean looking pump action shot gun. He too wore a vest as did his partner. Ryan checked his service weapon.

"You got the address?" Beckett asked looking over to Esposito.

"Yeah, it's around back." Esposito replied. He closed the lid of the trunk and cocked his shot gun. He wore a small grim smile on his face. "Banner day. Gonna close two cases with one arrest."

"Like Christmas." Ryan chuckled.

Beckett pulled her gun from its holster and checked it.

"Don't decorate the tree just yet, boys." She remarked. "It might be a coincidence."

Beckett nodded to the Esposito and Ryan, then turned and started moving across the parking lot. Esposito and Ryan followed her, and I followed the boys. I could not hold my tongue at the remark that this could be coincidence.

Oh come on, Debbie Downer. There are no such things as coincidences in murder cases." I said. "How many times do I have to tell you? I mean, it's the basic foundation of every crime book I've ever written. No coincidences."

Beckett slowed down her approach as she neared the corner. She paused, then turning the corner she spotted the suspect. She pulled back quickly.

"That's him." She said in a low voice.

Esposito peered around the corner and got eyes on the suspect. He too pulled back and gave Beckett a nod of the head, confirming that this was our guy.

"Ready?" She whispered.

She received curt nods from Esposito and Ryan. A moment later she gave Esposito a nod. Then they all came around the corner in a rush.

"Put your hands up!" Esposito shouted.

"Get your hands up!" Ryan yelled, pointing his gun on Grovner.

"Let's see them, keep them up." Esposito added.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" Grovner said, as he raised his hands into the air.

On coming around the corner and before the shouting had started, I had noticed Grovner was sitting on the front stoop of his place reading a newspaper under the light from a nearby street lamp. Confronted by the police brandishing weapons he quickly raised his hands. He was a dishevelled looking man with long lanky hair that had not seen a barber in some months.

Ryan moved quickly and patted him down for weapons.

"Wesley Grovner, I'm Detective Beckett." Beckett said as she stepped forward.

"He's clean." Ryan announced as he stepped back making a face, then added. "So to speak."

"What? I miss another parole meeting?" Grovner asked with a chuckle as he looked at the Beckett and the boys.

"Where were you last Tuesday night?" Beckett asked.

"Am I being punk'd?" Grovner said.

"If by punk'd you mean arrested for murder, yeah." Esposito said.

"You think I went somewhere Tuesday night and killed somebody?" Grovner said with some surprise.

"Actually, two somebodies." I informed him.

"Hey, I'm Houdini!" Grovner laughed.

As he laughed Grovner lifted up his leg and pulled up the pant-leg and revealed to us ankle monitor.

Beckett turned to Ryan and gave him a pointed look. A pain expression crossed over Ryan's face.

"Oops." He muttered.

"Hey, check this out." Grovner said.

Grovner stretched out his leg with the ankle monitor and suddenly it started beeping loudly.

With a smile on his face Grovner pulled his leg back. His smile grew deeper.

"This stoop is the edge of my Earth since I busted parole a week ago." He informed us. "Whatever you think I did, I ain't your guy."

"That's quite a coincidence." I muttered.

Beckett levelled an even more pointed look in my direction.

Needless to say, Beckett was not a happy camper when we pulled out of the parking lot. Neither was I. There I was spouting about there being no coincidences in murder investigations only to find one right there in the form of Wesley Grovner. Whatever I was feeling however, it was nothing to what Ryan and Esposito were feeling right now.

After Beckett apologised to Grovner and trudged back to our cars, she gave the boys the silent treatment. Angry, silent and disappointed treatment to be exact. Esposito and Ryan were apologetic and remorseful for their lapse. They looked like a pair of schoolboys who had let down their favourite teacher and felt really bad about it. If they had checked properly they would have found that Grovner was wearing an ankle monitor for a recent parole violation and our visit to his abode would not have been necessary.

Before she had gotten into her car Beckett simply told them to go home. They apologised again but she wouldn't hear of it. I can still picture their sad dejected faces as Beckett and I pulled out of the parking lot.

Even though I was not a happy camper, I tried to defend the boys. Having been on the receiving end of Beckett's angry silent and disappointed treatment I knew exactly what they were going through. It is not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. I offered up the explanation that it must have been a simple but honest mistake, and it could happen to anyone. The first time I tried I got the Death Glare for my troubles which kept me quiet for a few minutes. I tried again, and the second time I had a little more success.

A smile appeared on her face as she said that she had forgiven them but it did not hurt for them to know that she was displeased and next time they would make sure to double check, so something like this would not happen again. I smiled as well and silently wished I had teachers like Beckett back in the day.

Beckett dropped me off at the loft. I invited her up for a drink or a coffee or whatever took her fancy but she declined the invite, saying that she had a couple of calls to make. I sent Beckett off into the night with my customary "Until tomorrow".

XXX.

It had been a long tiring day and exhaustion hit me as the elevator hurtled upwards to deliver me to the loft. I looked forward to nothing more than a quiet evening relaxing, perhaps watch a movie or something. As I approached the front door I pulled out the keys for the front door.

I heard a rather loud commotion coming from within the loft. Surprise turned to horror as I heard the shouting.

"How dare you!" Mother shouted loudly. "How dare you take my dress! You're as thoughtless as your father!"

"I'm sorry...I just...Stop!" Alexis shouted. "No!...I didn't take anything! I didn't!"

Horror turned to utter disbelief and panic at the sound of my daughter's screams. In my haste to find the right key to the front door I dropped all the keys on the floor. I scrambled to pick them up and on finding the right one. I almost broke the key trying to shove into the lock.

"I'm sorry!..Stop...No." Alexis yelled.

"You're a beastie." Mother shouted.

"No, I didn't...I didn't think it was a big deal." Alexis said.

"I ought to break your little wrists." Mother yelled.

I had reached panic stations and shot right past as I struggled to open the front door. Finally I was able to fling it open.

I found mother standing by the couch with Alexis laying on the couch. Mother was hitting my daughter with a pillow.

"Mother! Have you finally..." I stopped.

Mother paused with the pillow in mid air. Slowly she turned around to look at me.

"Have I finally what, dear?" Mother asked nonchalantly. Alexis sat up and smiled at me. I noticed the script that she was holding in her hand.

"Hey Dad." he said.

"You're rehearsing." I muttered.

"Yes I have a call back." Mother explained. Mother saw the panic stricken look on my face. "Oh and you believed us? Oh, my God. That's marvellous."

I let out a sigh of relief as I turned back and went to close the front door. It took a bit of an effort to slow down my racing heart.

"You know, I am a better actress than I think I am." Mother remarked, chuckling.

Coming into the loft I joined Alexis.

"You okay Dad?" Alexis asked seeing the look on my face. "You look upset."

I was certainly upset but I did want to go on about coming home from a long hard days work only to find my Mother beating up my daughter. It's enough to give me a heart attack. I chose not to dwell on that particular matter. Instead I chose to tell them about the case.

"Turns out something I was sure of was just coincidence." I informed Alexis and Mother.

"Oh is it about the murder?" Mother asked.

"Exactly. It so happens that our two victims were connected." I replied. "It just had nothing to do with their deaths."

"You know, I bet if you looked hard enough you'd find a connection between everybody in this city." Mother pointed out. "I mean, it's the great thing about New York."

"Yeah, and if there wasn't a connection, you could always pretend there's one." Alexis said unhappily.

I looked at Alexis quizzically.

"Besides rehearsal, we have another drama going on around here tonight." Mother said, motioning with her head at Alexis.

"Oh. Owen?" I said.

"You know how Thalia said she had a crush on Owen at Camp Chumash?"

"Serendipity at Serendipity, yeah." I nodded my head.

"No, more like subterfuge at Serendipity." Alexis replied. "She never even went to Camp Chumash, but her friend did, and Thalia wanted to meet Owen. So she staged the whole thing."

I was both disgusted and intrigued at the same time on hearing that. "That is so...budding sociopath." I remarked.

"I knew it couldn't be a coincidence. I mean really? What are the odds?" Alexis said.

"Yeah, what are the odds?" I told her absently.

XXX

The following morning I came into the precinct early and on entering the bullpen I spotted Beckett leaning against the side of her desk staring at the two murder boards. I found it fascinating watching her stare at a murder board. I sometimes think that she is communing with it, almost willing it for it speak to her, to give her a tiny morsel of a clue that will lead her ultimately to the killer. I never tire of watching her watching the murder board.

She must have heard my approach because she turned her head to look at me.

"Hey, Castle. How you doing?" She asked.

"Well for a second last night, I thought my Mother was beating Alexis, so..." I replied as I sat down next to Beckett.

"Yeah, well Grovner was a head turner for all of us." Beckett said. "His GPS checked out, by the way."

I nodded my head. "Well, _Crash_ was on this morning, followed by _Footloose_, so I guess anything can happen." I remarked.

That quip managed to make Beckett smile but I could see there was still tension on her face.

"Are you okay?" I asked her quietly.

"Yeah. It's just this one reminds me of my mom's case." Beckett said as she continued to study the murder board. My gaze was focused on her face as she continued speaking. "What Frank Anderson's family is going through, especially Christina. Mourning her dad's death thinking that it was random, and then finding out that it wasn't. I guess you could say 'What does it matter?' The person that you love is dead."

Beckett paused and turned to look at me.

"But knowing _why_ matters." She added.

I saw the pain behind those hazel eyes as I gazed at her. She was talking about her mom's case, she was talking about her need to know why. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it quickly. What could I tell her? I had offered to help her work her mom's case but she had shut that down and it almost ruined this friendship we had. I felt so helpless in front of her pain.

Slowly I turned to look at the murder boards. At that moment Esposito and Ryan came waltzing up to Beckett's desk.

"Yo." Esposito called out. "The water tank is a bust."

"What?" Beckett said sounding surprised.

"Lanie called." Ryan explained. "Water sample is not a match."

"You believe that? We're nowhere." Esposito muttered.

Beckett looked to the boards.

"What is it with these two cases?" She said in exasperation.

"Yeah, Grovner was almost too good to be true." Ryan said.

"Not almost." I said.

"Yeah, and you guys and the husband." Esposito pointed out.

"I was sure it was him." Beckett replied. "And your son-in-law."

"I know. Same deal. Felt it." Ryan said in a sympathetic tone.

"Okay, it's not the fish tank, but they're connected. We just have to figure out how." I said.

"It's just we've been over these cases so many times, it's hard to see straight anymore." Beckett sighed. She looked at the boards for a moment and then glanced at Esposito. "Alright, well start over. Fresh eyes. You take our murder, we'll take yours."

"Alright." Esposito agreed.

Suddenly I had one of those light bulb moments. I was surprised that I did not have a light bulb flashing above my head.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, say that again." I said quickly to Beckett.

"You take our murder, we'll take yours." Beckett said as she turned to look at me, a quizzical expression on her face. I looked at her with a small smile.

"Could it be that easy?" I said but received blank looks in response. "You take mine. I'll take yours."

"What are you getting at, Castle?" Esposito demanded.

"_Strangers On A Train_." I explained.

"The Hitchcock movie?" Ryan asked.

I rose from my seat and moved to the murder boards.

"I'm partial to the novel by Patricia Highsmith, but yes." I said as I pulled off the photos of Eric Marxx and Jason Cosway from the boards. I turned to face Beckett and the boys holding the two photos in front of me. "We know they're connected. What if the connection is the killers?"

The look of curiosity that was on Beckett's face as she watched me pulling down the photos suddenly changed as understanding flooding across it.

"Jason and Eric committed each other's murders." She declared.

"And made sure they had an airtight alibi for the murder they knew they would be suspected of." I said hurriedly. "It's not our victims who are connected. It's our murderers. Crissscross."

I crossed the photos I was holding.

I was graced with a small but warm smile of gratitude from Beckett before she turned to the boys and issued a string of orders to them. I grinned like an idiot as I returned the photos to the murder boards. I felt very pleased with myself and for that light bulb moment I had. Also I could have basked in that smile of hers for all eternity.

To celebrate this sudden break in the case I decided to get myself and Beckett a cup of coffee. Nothing says 'well done' than a cup of cappuccino.

XXX

Not long after, a third murder board had been set up. It was smaller than the first two as it nestled between the others. Beckett had filled up the middle board with information and a time line. Shortly after the boys and I assembled before the boards.

"Okay, so we know Jason was at the Garden watching the game till it finished at ten." Beckett announced getting the ball rolling. "And then made the call from Ashley's office at 11.47."

"The Garden is on 32nd. Her office is on 18th." I said. "It would have taken him max 20 minutes."

"So why did it take him two hours?" Esposito questioned.

"Because, Esposito, he jumped in a cab, went uptown, killed Frank." I replied.

"Which happened at eleven." Ryan said pointing to the time line. "He easily makes it back to his wife's office in time to find her body at 11.47."

"And we know that Eric clocked out at 6.03." Esposito said.

"And Ashley's killed at eight." Beckett pointed out.

"He shows up at the party at the bar at 9.15." Ryan pointed.

I could not keep the grin from my face as I turned to look at Beckett.

"Something tells me their alibis are not going to be so airtight for the other murders." I announced.

XXX

Beckett and I left the precinct to go pay Jason Cosway another visit. By some miracle Beckett was able to find a parking spot not far from the building where Jason worked. It was a bright sunny day as we walked down the street towards the 9th And Broadway building where Cosway's office was located. I pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. There were a couple of reasons for wearing the shades. One was because it was a sunny day and the other reason was because as we were walking down the street there had been more than a couple of people who recognised me. Thankfully they had not come up to me asking for an autograph but I was now on police business and the last thing I wanted to have happen is to be waylaid by some over eager fan. I doubt Beckett would have been impressed at the interruption.

As we approached the front of the building who should happen to emerge from it but none other than Jason Cosway. He was holding a brief case and seemed in a little bit of a hurry.

"Mr Cosway." Beckett called out. "We were just coming to see you."

Cosway was a little startled at finding Beckett and myself standing there. He recovered quickly enough, I'll give him that. He offered up a quick nervous smile.

"Oh, hey, You guys have news?" He asked. "I mean, is it the old patient of Ashley's? That turn out to be anything, or..."

"No, but we are making progress." Beckett replied with a small smile.

"Okay. Uh what can I do for you?"

"Just like to ask you a few questions about the night of the murder." Beckett explained to him.

"Do you guys have any suspects at all yet, or..."

"We're looking at someone right now." I said as I stared at Cosway. I will concede I did have a bit of a smile on my face when I said that.

Cosway nodded his head then glanced at his watch.

"Okay, well, actually, I have to meet the movers at Ashley's office, so if you don't mind walking with me?"

Cosway started walking towards the end of the street. Beckett and I fell into step beside him.

"Can you tell us what you did right after the basketball game?" Beckett asked.

"After? Why do you ask?" Cosway looked a little confused.

"We're just trying to get our time line straight." Beckett explained.

"You're not accusing me of killing my wife again, are you?" Cosway tossed out.

"I can assure you that we are one hundred percent certain you did not kill Ashley." Beckett said smoothly. I could not keep the cheeky smile from my face. Beckett can do a nice line in deadpan when she wants to.

"It's just on the night of the murder, you said you were on your way to pick her up." Beckett said when she turned to look at Cosway.

"Yeah, so?" Cosway replied as he stopped walking. Beckett and I stopped as well.

"Well, then why did it take you two hours to get from the Garden to 18th Street?" Beckett questioned.

"Look, I knew Ash wanted to work late, alright?" Cosway replied. "I didn't want to bother her, so I killed some time."

"Ooo!" I muttered.

Both Beckett and Cosway turned to look at me. Cosway looked confused but Beckett was giving me one of her glares. I was looking skywards for a moment before I lowered my gaze to Beckett.

"Sorry. Go ahead." I said in a low voice.

"Uh, and then I stopped at a news stand." Cosway added.

"Where?" Beckett asked.

"Somewhere on 7th. Maybe it was 26th, I don't know. Anyway, I bought myself a slice of pizza at Rays."

"Original Famous or Famous Original?" I said. "There's one on 28th and there's one on 23rd, I can't remember which." I added.

Cosway frowned as he looked at us.

"I'm a little confused here, you know." he said. "There is somebody out there that killed my wife."

"Mr Cosway, we're just trying to figure this out." Beckett explained.

Cosway regarded Beckett a moment before he spoke again.

"After that, I went home." He said.

"Is there anyone who can vouch for that?" Beckett said.

"Yeah, I'm sure somebody in my building."

"Thank you so much for your time." Beckett announced.

"Of course."

Cosway turned and started running to the pier that was at the end of the street. Beckett and I watched him as he dashed onto the pier and ran to catch the New York Water taxi that was getting ready to pull away. A loud horn sounded warning passengers that the boat was ready to leave. I removed my sunglasses to take a better look at the big yellow water taxi.

"Looks like we found our body of water." Beckett murmured as she turned to look at me.

I have to say that I was rather stunned when I saw the water taxi. We had found out body of salt water.

"Strangers on a boat?" I offered.

Beckett gave me a triumphant look before she turned and started walking up the street back to our car. She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out her phone. She called up Ryan and set him to checking to see if Eric Marx used the same water taxi service.

XXX

There was a confident gait in Beckett's stride as she marched into the bullpen. I too was feeling confident. Esposito and Ryan were approaching from the other direction.

"What's the verdict?" Beckett called out.

"Eric Marx takes the same water taxi to work, too." Ryan reported.

"Bam said the Lady!" I declared. "There's our connection."

We met the boys in the middle of the bullpen. I was standing in front of the boys and Beckett.

"Oh no, it gets better." Esposito added with a smile. "Lanie ran the substance on vics against the Hudson River water. It's a match."

I don't know about the others but I was getting a little excited about this. The evidence was falling into place.

"Marx gets on the boat uptown, Cosway joins him at Chelsea piers and they ride to Pier 11 together." Ryan added.

"So one day, maybe they start talking." I said, falling into stroytelling mode. I couldn't help myself. I was excited. "Maybe about the Yankee bullpen, maybe about the attractive secretary leaning up against the railing. Oh, and Jason starts grumbling about his wife. Eric maybe mentions how he covets Frank's apartment."

"Yeah, well there is an open deck." Esposito interjected. "I figure that's where they were doing their plotting."

"And how the water from the Hudson got on both of them." Beckett added.

Under normal circumstances I would have been a little annoyed about being interrupted when I'm story telling mode but this time I was willing to let it slide as we all built theory.

"It gets transferred from Eric Marx's jacket and gloves to Ashley Cosway when they struggle." I said.

"Then to Frank Anderson when Jason Cosway swipes his watch and wallet." Esposito added.

"Done deal." Ryan said with finality.

A frown creased Beckett's face.

"Except it's all circumstantial." she said unahppily. "The DA will never buy it without hard evidence or a confession."

My excitement that we were about to solve the case took a bit of a dip thanks to Debbie Downer standing beside me. She had to go and throw a bit of logic into the mix.

"Oh, we're going to get a confession." Esposito declared with more cockiness than was good for him.

I snorted with derision at that remark, and I was pleased to hear a similar sound from Beckett.

I stepped right into Esposito's personal space. "Not if we get one first." I declared.

I'll give Esposito credit, he did not even flinch in the face of my most intimidating expression.

"So...bet's back on?" Ryan said with a grin.

Beckett got right into his face. "You bet your britches the bet's back on." She said in a low, dangerous voice.

While his partner did not flinch, the same could not be said of Detective Ryan. His face twitched a little as the colour chose to drain from his face under Beckett's glare. I thought he wanted to take a step back but couldn't, not if he wanted to lose respect from his partner. Still I'm not surprised seeing him intimidated by Beckett. I have seen tougher men flinch under one of those glares of hers, myself included.

Beckett and I left the precinct to go and pick up Jason Cosway, while the boys went to grab Eric Marx. We found Cosway where he told us he would be, at his wife's office supervising the furniture removalists.

Jason Cosway was surprised when Beckett and I walked into the office with a pair of uniforms accompanying us. His surprise deepened a little when Beckett informed him that she was arresting him for the murder of Frank Anderson. Then surprise turned to anger when Beckett slapped the cuffs on him. Yes, Jason Cosway was very displeased to have the bracelets put on him in front of the removlists.

XXX

Returning to the precinct we escorted Jason Cosway along the hallway as we headed towards one of the interrogation rooms. We passed Eric Marx who was standing between Esposito and Ryan. Cosway glared at Marx as they passed each other.

"What are the odds." I remarked in a low voice.

We put Cosway into the interrogation room and then returned to Beckett's desk where Beckett quickly went through the file preparing herself for the upcoming interrogation. It was not long before she got up and we headed into the interrogation room.

Cosway scoffed at the accusation that he was the one who murdered Frank Anderson. As you would expect, Cosway denied killing Frank Anderson, he also denied ever knowing him.

"You guys really think a jury is going to believe such a crazy story like this?" Cosway said.

"Juries are smart." Beckett replied calmly.

"Yeah, yeah they are." Cosway agreed. "But you see, they're going to have to do two separate trials. And the prosecutor is going to have to convince them that I killed someone who I have no connection to and no motive whatsoever to want dead. And to me that's ridiculous."

"Sounds like you've given this some thought, Mr Cosway." Beckett observed.

Cosway regarded Beckett with a smug looking smile on his face for a couple of moments.

"Cute." he said finally. "But wrong."

"You made a pact with Eric Marx." I said. "Don't crack. No one will ever be able to prove what you did."

"I told you guys already, I only met him the other day." Cosway insisted.

"You rode the same water taxi every day." Beckett retorted.

"As do a hundred other people." Cosway said angrily. "Everyday!"

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" Beckett said.

"Really?" Cosway scoffed.

"Yeah. There's an Alpha male in every conspiracy and that was you." Beckett accused. "Eric was malleable, wasn't he? And that suited you just fine."

I had been looking at Beckett but slowly turned to look at Cosway.

"But Ashley wasn't, was she?" I said to him slowly. "She was a strong, professional woman. A psychologist no less. You couldn't push her around."

"Then why did I marry her?" Cosway challenged.

"That's the question you asked yourself every day, isn't it? Because you had realised that you did not want a wife." I said and paused a moment before speaking again. "You wanted a puppy."

Cosway did not reply. He just stared at me with a cold smile. Every bone in my body was screaming at me, telling me that he was guilty as sin. He had killed Frank Anderson. The problem was we did not have any hard evidence that could prove that and he looked like he was not about to confess.

We spent a few more minutes interrogating him but he was not going to crack. Realising this Beckett called a halt to the interrogation. She and I left the room to review and regroup, and come up with another plan of attack. I would like to claim credit for the new plan of attack that we came up with but I can't. All credit belongs to Detective Beckett.

While we had been interrogating Jason Cosway, Esposito and Ryan were going after Eric Marx.

They were sitting at the desk opposite a nervous looking Eric Marx.

"Now you get a judge with political aspirations, bro..." Esposito said.

"Yeah, we're talking talking death penalty." Ryan added.

"New York's still a lethal injection state."

Eric was a little frightened at this piece of news. What he might not have known was that the Death Penalty on the New York statutes had been ruled unconstitutional some years back but the law remained on the books. Another bit of useless information, while we're at it, is that the state of New York has never used the lethal injection as a form of carrying out a death sentence. But I digress...

"Now you confess, you cop a plea, it's a different story." Ryan told him.

"You're going to save the state all sorts of money on a trial." Esposito added.

"Yeah, practically guaranteed to get off with life."

"Yeah, and then the judge can get his political bones on someone else. Like your boy, Jason."

"No. I...I know my rights, alright?" Eric shouted. "So you can stop all this good cop/bad cop..."

Beckett flashed me a quick grin as she opened the door of the interrogation room where the boys and Eric were and walked in. I followed. We had been listening in at the door and waited for just the right moment to make our entrance.

"Good you know your rights, Eric." Beckett said with a grin. "Because your buddy just rolled on you."

Eric's eyes widened with alarm at that piece of news.

"Oh man! Come on!" Esposito said in an exasperated tone. Ryan shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh, yeah. Cosway just signed his confession." I chimed in. "Copped a nice little plea, at your expense. Sorry dude."

"Told you we'd get our guy first." Beckett said to the boys with a triumphant tone in her voice.

Beckett moved to leave.

"No. No. Wait!" Eric called out.

We all paused and looked at Eric.

"It was...it was his idea, not mine." Eric declared. "He planned the whole thing."

Beckett positively beamed at Eric's confession. I could not help but smile either.

Esposito tapped the writing pad with his finger and then pushed it across the table to Eric. He wanted Eric to write down his confession. Beckett and I left the boys to it to return back to Cosway to give him the good news that his companion had just rolled on him. It was so good to see the smug smile wiped from his face.

XXX

I was standing by Beckett's desk when Jason Cosway emerged from the interrogation room sandwiched between a pair of uniforms. Beckett was standing beside me packing up. There was still the paperwork to complete but from the looks of things Becket was going to leave it for tomorrow, a rarity for Beckett but a small reward for having cleared two murders. We shared a triumphant smile and watched as he was taken away.

I could not help but notice Ryan and Esposito, who were standing at their desks looking well pleased with themselves for having wrapped up this case.

"Ryan, you were on fire." Esposito complimented his partner.

"New nickname, Iceposito." Ryan, equally effusive.

I was amused at their mutual admiration society. I looked at Beckett.

"Excellent work, Detective." I told her.

"Yeah, well once we realised that Jason was the alpha and wouldn't break, it was obvious that Eric was the weak link." Becket replied with a shrug.

When we had taken a break from interrogating Jason Cosway it had been Beckett who came up with the assumption that Eric was the weak link of the their partnership and to take a run at him. I was all for that and played along when Beckett marched into the other interrogation room where Eric Marx was and told him that Cosway had rolled. A stroke of genius I thought on her part.

Ryan and Esposito looked across to where Beckett and I were standing.

"When you guys came into the room and we knew you were playing, everything kind of went..."

Esposito said and then linked his fingers to illustrate what he was trying to say.

"Yeah, that's right," Ryan added, with a smile. "We were right with you guys."

"Oh please." Beckett scoffed.

"That was the whole point, was that you weren't in on it." I said. "That's how we sold it."

"Well, that's neither here nor there, because we won the bet." Esposito declared. He turned and shook his partner's hand. Ryan was beaming too.

"How's that?" I challenged.

"Our guy broke." Esposito said.

"Yeah, because he broke him." Beckett pointed out.

"So what?" Ryan piped up as he and Esposito came over to Beckett's desk. "It's like soccer. You score in our goal, it's our point."

"Soccer, really? You're going with that?" Beckett retorted.

"Works for me." Esposito said.

"Well how about baseball?" I offered, and pointed to Beckett and myself. "Because this team just knocked it out of the park."

Beckett clicked her tongue to simulate the sound of a ball striking a bat and then whistled and as said ball sailed high into the air and out of the park. At the end of the whistle both Beckett and I waved our hands and made crowd cheering sounds.

Ryan was unimpressed. He made a swinging motion with his hands.

"Yeah, our team was supposed to be at bat." He said.

"Again with that one." Beckett replied with a shake of her head.

All four of us left Beckett's desk and started heading for the exit.

"Your team never made it to the field because they were to scared to get off the bus." I threw out.

That quip was greeted with a burst of laughter from Beckett.

"Uh, Castle, our team drove the bus." Esposito retorted.

"Yeah, well how about NASCAR?" I suggested. "As our car flew to the chequered line, you guys crashed and burned.

"Under a beautiful moon!" Beckett said as she waved her hands in the air.

"Now that's just corny." Esposito grouched, as we reached the elevator.

This school yard-like debate continued on the ride down to the lobby. It was early evening and as we had been busy trying to nail Cosway and Eric Marx lunch had been overlooked, I offered to buy the guys dinner. It was an offer all three detectives were more than eager to accept. We ended up at Remys for burgers and fries.

In between bites of burger and fries the discussion of who won the bet continued with the boys maintaining they had won the bet and I defending Team Beckett. It looked like we would be arguing well into the night with no resolution to the matter. It would have, had it not been for Beckett. She came up with the suggestion that the result was a draw, we all had won. Two bad guys in jail. I could live with that and the boys could as well. As for the money that had been wagered, well Beckett took possession of it declaring that it would go to charity. None of us were game to argue against that. I dare say no one at the precinct would argue over that decision either. A win-win all round.

XXXXX

_**There you have it the end of another case file. Thank you for reading it. Drop me a line to let me know what you thought of this effort.**_

_**Con **_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Case of Inventing The Girl

Part 1

The fashion world can be a pretty cut throat place. I did not fully realise how ruthless it was until this particular case landed in our laps. Oh sure, I had heard some of the horror stories you never get to read in the glossy magazines or the weekly supermarket checkout offerings from the bevy of models of the 'super' variety as well as the ordinary kind that I had dated. But this case was sad as well as an eye opener.

The day started like most days for me, in the morning and in our kitchen. Over breakfast Mother had rounded me up to help her with reading lines. This was a task I was very well used to, having done it countless times over the years. Mother was getting ready for an audition for a rather big new Broadway play that was coming up and she was getting prepared and that was why I got lassoed into helping.

When I had been young I pretty much did not have much a say in the matter but I thought once I had grown up and became rich and famous this particular family chore was one I could pass on. Obviously I had been labouring under a misconception. I was standing at the island eating cereal with the script laying beside the bowl and my attention drawn to the newspaper I had been trying to read.

"'I swear Jasmine, this has always been the way with you. You just can't go through life for an egg in your beer and your money back twice'". Mother intoned and paused.

Like I said I was reading something in the paper and had missed my queue. For my absent mindedness Mother swatted me with her script.

"'Your money back twice!'" Mother repeated.

"Sorry." I said quickly, turning my attention to the script beside me I affected a Southern accent. "'Mama, if I'm such a disappointment to you, I don't even know why you bother coming home. Isn't that right, Granny?'"

"'Shut up you two. I'm trying to watch my stories.'" Alexis said, also in a Southern accent.

I was not the only one dragooned into this rehearsal. Alexis had been cornered and enticed to help Mother out. I was pleased that I did not have to suffer alone with this.

"'Oh I wish I'd never left Paris.'" Mother said, a touch over dramatic to my ear. "And, scene. Good. Good. Alright, let's take it from the top."

That particular remark of Mother's received a chrous of groans from her son and granddaughter.

"Oh, guys, come on." Mother said. "Don't you want me to land this role?"

"Of course we do." I said quickly. "It's just..."

"Yeah." Alexis agreed readily.

"Look, we're talking about the lead in a Broadway play. This is a potential gold mine. If it's a hit, who knows how long it could run? Then I could take it on the road." Mother said with not a little excitement in her voice.

"You mean you'd leave us?" Alexis said with some concern etched on her face.

"Well, for only nine months of the year." Mother replied.

Alexis frowned.

"Oh, don't look so sad." Mother said to Alexis. In the next heart beat she swatted me with her script. "And you don't look so happy."

I will admit that the thought of Mother being away for nine months touring a play did bring a smile to my face.

Before I could land myself into any further trouble, my phone started ringing.

"Castle." I announced, not having checked the caller ID. The dulcet tones of Detective Kate Beckett brought a genuine smile to my face. "I'll be right there. Alright." I hung up and looked at Mother.

"Death. Murder. Mayhem. Whole enchilada." I announced. "Sorry to bail on rehearsal."

"Oh, don't worry. Alexis can read both parts." Mother replied as she wandered off studying her lines. "It's alright if she misses a morning of school, isn't it?"

Alexis reached out and grabbed my arm with the speed of an attacking lioness.

"Take me with you." Alexis said frantically.

"To a crime scene?" I said, with some surprise.

"It'd be educational, please?"

I glanced over to where Mother was studying her lines and then back at the still frantic looking daughter of mine. I grinned evilly.

"Find your own hiding place." I informed her.

Alexis shot me a look that said; that I would pay for abandoning her with her grandmother maybe not in the immediate future but some time soon, and it would be some teenage indiscretion that would have me freaking out.

XXX

Beckett and I arrived at the plaza to find it cordoned off by the ubiquitous police tape. In the distance by the water fountain lay the body of a young woman. Dr Lanie Parish was kneeling beside the body making notes on her clipboard. Esposito and Ryan greeted us.

"Caucasian female." Esposito informed us. "A couple of skinny dippers found her this morning."

"I bet that killed the mood." I remarked.

"Purse is missing, no ID. And get this, we couldn't find her shoes." Ryan said.

"I'm going to go with, still Prince Charming at the ball." I suggested. "Should we look for a pumpkin and some mice?"

I was met with blank stares.

"I guess not." I shrugged.

Beckett took in the buildings surrounding the plaza for a few moments before she turned her attention to the boys.

"Canvass the buildings surrounding the plaza and get uniforms to check trash cans and dumpsters for her purse." Beckett ordered.

"Aye, aye." Ryan said as he and Esposito moved off to carry out her orders.

Beckett and I walked over to where the body lay.

"Hi Lanie." Beckett said.

"Hey." Lanie said as she looked up from her clipboard.

"Cause of death?"

"Stabbing." Lanie replied. "There's a fatal wound in her back. Maybe a robbery gone wrong."

"Maybe." Beckett said. "We got to find out who she is and what she was doing here so late, though."

I had been studying the body of the young woman and chose that moment to speak up.

"Well, she's tall, she's gorgeous, ten pounds underweight. Her hair is fried, she's wearing too much eye makeup. She's a model." I declared. Both Beckett and Lanie turned to look at me. "Which means she was probably at a club last night. It is after all Fashion Week, when all the hottest women in the world descend upon the hippest nightspots like locusts. Only locusts eat."

Beckett regarded me a moment with a look that said she was impressed with my deductive reasoning, or not impressed with my deductive reasoning. I sometimes can't tell with her.

"Can you tell me who killed her?" She asked, finally.

I shook my head.

"Then pipe down."

Okay, unimpressed with my deductive reasoning.

"This was on her wrist." Lanie said, she held up a plastic evidence bag. Beckett took the bag and examined what it contained.

"She was at a club." Beckett remarked. She cast me a quick look.

Apology accepted, Detective Beckett, I thought to myself. I had a 'I told you so' smile on my face.

"That's Teddy Farrow's logo." Beckett continued. "He designs clothes for women. Upscale, expensive."

"Oh my credit card and I are painfully aware of Teddy's designs." I informed her. "I almost asked for custody of them after my last divorce."

"Is there a label in her dress?" Beckett asked Lanie.

The Medical Examiner turned the body a little and checked the back of the dress.

"Teddy Farrow Collection." Lanie reported.

"Well, if she's one of his models, maybe he can identify her for us." Beckett handed the evidence bag to Lanie. "Thank you, Lanie."

"You're welcome." Lanie replied, and returned to her work.

Beckett turned and started walking away from the scene of the crime. I fell into step alongside her.

"I can already see the blurb on my next book jacket." I announced. "'It's Fashion Week in New York City, and the clothes are to die for.'"

Beckett cast a look in my direction and rolled her eyes.

XXX

It did not take long to locate where Teddy Farrow was. I made a couple of calls and was given the location where Farrow was conducting a fashion show. An hour after have left the scene of the murder Beckett and I found ourselves backstage at Teddy Farrow's latest fashion show.

It was a hive of manic activity with stick thin models in various stages of undress getting ready for the show. Swarms of assistants were hovering around helping the models, zipping them up, applying finishing touches to make up, garish jewellery being draped around long necks, wracks of clothes being wheeled from one place to another, camera flashes going off at the rate of strobe lights, dance music with a heavy bass playing in the background, and all the noise that comes with preparing for a catwalk show.

When we had tried to gain entrance at the back a heavy set security guy with an earpiece and dark sunglasses held up his meaty hand preventing access. Beckett flashed her badge inches from his face and the guy was more than happy to stand aside and let us through.

Finding Teddy Farrow in this manic maelstrom was not all that difficult. He was holding court in the middle of the room. He was aged in his late forties, or early fifties, of average height with blonde spiky hair that showed tinges of grey around the temples. He had a tan that could have come from attending some of the more exclusive holiday resorts in the Bahamas or Bermuda, or some spray tan salon. He was dressed in a blue jacket and matching pants, a white shirt.

As we approached, Teddy was surrounded by assistants and other assorted flunkies issuing a string of orders like a ring master at the circus. On introducing ourselves and badging him, Beckett asked for a few minutes of his time which he readily consented. Beckett showed him a photo of the murder victim. A look of shock crossed Teddy's face as he looked at the photo.

"That's Jenna." Teddy said in his English accent. "Jenna McBoyd."

"Five minutes people, five minutes." A floor manager guy with a headset called out as he walked past us.

"She was supposed to walk for me today. My God what happened?"

"She was stabbed some time this morning." Beckett informed him.

"I can't believe it." Teddy said, looking shocked at the news. "I saw her last night at my party."

"Did you notice anything unusual at the party?" Beckett questioned.

I was trying hard to concentrate on the interview but I will tell you that it was not an easy task. Being surrounded by so many models it's easy to be distracted, especially if one catches sight out the corner of one's eye a model standing there in nothing but her skimpy panties shrugging herself into a dress. Quickly, I returned my gaze to Teddy.

"She was agitated." Teddy said. "But that wasn't so unusual for her these days."

A female assistant came up to Teddy holding in each hand garish looking necklaces.

"Which one?" She asked Teddy.

"That one." Teddy replied pointing to the necklace the assistant held in her right hand. The assistant nodded her head and scurried away.

"Any idea what was wrong?" Beckett asked him.

"Yeah, she was stressed out." Teddy replied. His attention was drawn to an assistant a short distance away. He moved towards the assistant and model. "Hey! Not the pink sash, the blue one!"

"Sorry, sir." The assistant said hurriedly, tossing away the pink sash she had been preparing to wrap around the model. Teddy turned and looked at us.

"Look, Jenna was a small town girl." He said. "I mean, straight off the bus from Ohio."

"You're saying she was innocent?" I said.

"She was a rising star, but she wasn't ready for what was coming."

"What do you mean?" Beckett asked, frowning.

Before Teddy was able to reply, floor manager guy came waltzing by.

"Four minutes people, four minutes." He shouted.

"I mean I was thinking of making her the face of my campaign." Teddy explained. "That would have meant photo shoots, magazines, billboards in Times Square, travel, not to mention a very generous paycheck."

"That seems to be all pretty heady stuff for a naïve young girl." I remarked.

"In recent weeks, she'd become so bad tempered, paranoid." Teddy said. "I'd started to wonder if she wasn't too inexperienced for a major campaign."

"You said she was paranoid. Any chance she was doing drugs?" Beckett said.

Teddy shook his head. "Not her style."

Beckett was about to ask another question but she was interrupted by the arrival of an angry looking photographer whose name we later learned was Tyler Monroe. He was holding in his hands an expensive looking digital camera with a long lens.

"Teddy, if you want me to shoot the girls, you need to get that boy band poser out of my seat." He said angrily.

Teddy turned to look at the photographer and forced a smile to his face.

"Wyatt, I'll take care of it." Teddy assured the photographer.

"Mr Farrow, just a couple more questions." Beckett said.

Teddy was ready to move off but he stopped and turned back to look at Beckett and myself.

"Yes but quickly, please." Teddy begged.

My attention was drawn to a young model standing by one of the make up mirrors who had been had been fixing her eyeliner. She paused and turned around and started smiling and waved. I returned the smile.

"Who was Jenna with last night?" Beckett asked. "Castle, focus."

I swear Beckett was not looking at me, her gaze was focused on Teddy. Her hiss quickly had me concentrating on questioning Teddy.

"I only saw her briefly. She spent most of her time with Sienna, her best friend." Teddy replied. He then pointed her out. "That's Sierra, with the wedding gown."

Both Beckett and I looked in the direction where Teddy was pointing. Sienna was surrounded by a couple of assistants getting her ready for the catwalk walk. She was an attractive looking girl and one thing I noticed was that she had gone heavy on the eye make up and ridiculously long false eyelashes. Come to think of it a lot of the models getting ready wore heavy eye make up and ridiculously long false eyelashes. Maybe it was Teddy's thing, I'm not sure.

"So, if that's all, now I really must take care of last minute details." Teddy said.

"Uh, uh. One last thing." I said. "When Jenna left your party, was she wearing shoes?"

"Yes, Christian Louboutin pink satin pumps I'd lent her for the evening." Teddy replied. He looked to Beckett with an apologetic smile. "The dress she was wearing was a one of a kind. I don't suppose we could have it returned?"

"It's in evidence now. And it has a hole in the back of it, where she was stabbed." Beckett informed him curtly.

Teddy held up his hands in apology. He also a small smile.

"Sorry." He said before he turned and walked away.

Beckett turned and looked at me. I could only offer up a shrug in response to Teddy's some what callous attitude. He seemed to be more concerned for the one of a kind dress rather than the death of one of his models. We were about to go over to Sienna to speak to her but the girl who had been smiling and waving at me came over and waylaid us.

"Rick Castle, it's so funny I ran into you today." She said, smiling broadly. "I just bought this on the way in."

The girl handed over a copy of _Cosmo_ that she had been holding. My face broke into a bright smile on seeing my picture on the front cover.

"Oh, look at that. It's my cover." I said, showing it to Beckett.

"And it's on stands already." Beckett remarked drily.

I quickly opened the magazine to the article.

"'Richard Castle gets the inspiration for his latest novel, _Heat Wave_, and his new character, Nikki Heat, from New York's finest." I read. I glanced at Beckett who trying not to look too uncomfortable. "That's nice, right?"

"Could you..." The girl asked.

"Yes absolutely." I replied with a smile. "Who should I make it out to?"

"Oh, you don't remember me." The girl said, a little disappointed.

Beckett quirked an eyebrow as she looked at me.

Truth be told, I did not remember who she was. That is not all that unusual. A person like me gets to meet countless numbers of people. Take for example the hundreds of fans who come to my book signings, thousands actually. It is impossible to remember every single person whom I've met in passing. However I did not want her think I did not remember who she was, I didn't want to disappoint her, so I resorted to my default position.

"Yes...of course I do...you're..."

"Rina." The girl supplied.

The pause after 'you're' was deliberate, it is a fake way of trying to recall the name of the person you are speaking to when you don't know who in the world they are so it forces them to supply their name. It was a neat little trick I had learned years ago.

I suddenly became friendly and animated.

"Rina. Yes. We met at that party...With that, that thing...That was late...it was...crazy...Wow, what a night." I fluffed about.

That too is a little trick I have learned. Even though you now know the name of the person you are talking to, but still have no idea who they are or where you met them, you begin fluffing about, mentioning some party or other, throwing in a couple of 'wild nights' but not going into specifics in the hope they will supply that information again.

Beckett seemed rather amused at this particular performance of mine. Rina though, was not buying it. Even under all that heavy make up she still looked a little disappointed.

"Let's go models, take your positions." Floor manager guy called out. "I need you up here in line."

Rina glanced at Floor Manager guy, obviously that was her cue. She turned back to look at me.

"Here." Rina said as she took my hand and wrote her number with the eyeliner pencil she had been holding. "Call me." She added before she quickly departed.

I could not help but smile as I watched Rina leave. When I had arrived here I had not expected to end up with a model's phone number. Well the old Castle charm never fails, I thought to myself. I turned to Beckett and found her smirking at me.

"You're in here too." I said holding up the magazine.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head as she turned and made her way over to where Sierra was standing.

"Oh God, I feel sick." Sienna said on being told of Jenna's death. "And I'm wearing her gown."

Both Beckett and I looked at her a little confused.

"She was supposed to close the show, not me." Sienna explained. "I...I called her this morning like a million times, but it just kept going to voice mail."

"When did Jenna leave the party?" Beckett asked her.

"Around midnight. I assumed she was going home." Sienna said sniffing back some tears.

"Mr Farrow mentioned that she seemed agitated lately." Beckett said.

Sienna nodded her head. "Tomorrow, Teddy is announcing the new face of his collection. Jenna was up for the job and she was a little tense but she didn't have any reason to be."

"Why not?" I asked.

"She was a lock. Jenna was Teddy's favourite."

Under the heavy make up and ridiculously long false eyelashes, Sienna's face paled a little. She looked at us with alarm.

"Oh, God. Does Travis know?"

Beckett frowned.

"Her husband? Sienna explained. "He's gonna be devastated. They were so in love."

Beckett did not have any more questions for Sienna for the time being and let her go, thanking her for her time. As much as I would have liked to hang around here there was worked to be done, a murder to be solved and a husband to inform that his wife had been found murdered.

XXX

Travis McBoyd was a tall thin young man with swept back blonde locks and a mid western twang. He was dressed in jeans and a light brown jacket. He reminded me of a very young Gary Busey. We were sitting in the interview lounge. Beckett and I sitting on one side of the table and Travis on the other side.

Travis told us that he had gone to bed around eleven o'clock figuring that Jenna would wake him up when she got home. By three am she had not come home and he started to get a little worried. He called her cell phone but she wouldn't pick. He said that he then called the cops. He was told he had to wait 48 hours before he could report her missing. Travis told the cops that they did not know his wife. If she wasn't home by now something must have happened to her.

Travis suddenly rose to his feet and paced the floor for a moment or two before he spoke.

"God, I should have been there." Travis sighed heavily, fighting to contain his emotions. He looked over to us. "These parties, you know, they're just...Everyone is so phony."

"Travis, I know this is difficult, but I have to ask you this question." Beckett said gently. "Was there anyone that you can think of that would want to do harm to Jenna.

Travis looked at Beckett with some surprise.

"You're kidding, right?" He said. "W...we filed the reports. D...didn't the other cops send them to you guys?"

"Reports?" I said.

"For harassment. Some guy was sending Jenna letters, like, writing all sort of sick things." Travis said. "He was taking pictures of her, too." There was a distasteful look on his face when he said that.

"It's like he was watching us all the time." Travis continued. "She was falling apart. I mean, we both were. Hell, we almost moved back home."

"And you filed a report?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, a dozen of them." Travis said angrily. "And every time you people said the same damn thing. This is New York and you got more important things to do than track down some annoying fan. And now she's dead. My wife is dead."

What do you say to a guy who's lost his wife and is angry at the cops? Being the only wordsmith in the room I had nothing. Well, there was someone else in the room who knew exactly what to say. Beckett rose to her feet and promised Travis that despite what had happened before she would do everything possible to find whoever killed his wife. Her honesty cooled his anger.

Once more I was left to marvel how well she handled this difficult situation. Beckett would say that she was not 'handling' but making a promise. Whatever you want to call it, I was left to marvel.

She sent Travis home with Ryan and Esposito, they went to get the letters the stalker had sent.

XXX

An hour and a half after Travis McBoyd had been accompanied home by the boys, they had come back. They, Beckett and I were sitting around the table in the conference room. Spread out on the table were the letters and photographs that Jenna McBoyd had been received from her stalker. The letters were encased in plastic evidence bags.

"The letters were mailed from the Soho post office. No return address. No signature." Ryan reported.

"So, the anonymous stalker didn't write his name and number." Esposito said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I'm just saying." Ryan frowned.

While Beckett smirked at the boys' interaction, I reached out and picked up one of the letters. I studied a moment and then began to read it.

"'I saw you today in the subway. Did you see me? I wanted to taste you.'" I read out.

"That's pretty sick stuff." Esposito said sourly.

I would not have describe it like that. Thousands upon thousands of would-be-Romeos write similar things to their wives and lovers or would-be-wives and lovers every day. I too, have been known to have penned an ode or two in my time.

"He doesn't make any direct threats." Beckett pointed out. She glanced at me. "That's why Jenna and Travis could not get the beat cops to take them seriously."

"Boy, two small town kids go to the big city to follow their dreams and this." I said sadly, as I motioned to the letters on the table. "Not the fairy tale ending they were looking for, I'm sure."

Beckett nodded her head.

Esposito picked up one of the photographs that had been sent to Jenna. He turned it around for Beckett and I to see. I was a shot of Jenna standing near the window of her bedroom. She was in the process of removing her shirt. Even to my untrained eye I could see that the shot had been taken with a telephoto lens, a pretty long telephoto lens.

"You know, to take these shots, he would have had to have been on a rooftop pretty close to the apartment." Esposito advised.

"No wonder she was freaked out." Beckett remarked. She looked across the table to Esposito and Ryan. "Find the roof, see if there's anything up there that we can use to identify him."

Ryan and Esposito nodded their heads, silently acknowledging the order. Then Beckett cast her gaze from Esposito to Ryan and then to me. There was a determined glint in her eye.

"Those cops let Jenna down once. We're not going to do it again."

There was nods all round from her boys.

XXXXX

_**Here you go another case from Castle's Case files. Drop me a line to let me know what you thought of it.**_

_**Con **_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Case of Inventing The Girl

Part 2

I arrived home early in the evening with a paper bag containing Chinese takeout I had gotten on the way home and in the other hand I had a stack of _Cosmo_ magazines which I bought at my local news stand. I may have picked up all the magazines at the news stand. Actually, I did buy up all the magazines. I was going to hand them out in the coming days.

In all honesty I had forgotten that the big write up and cover were coming out and it had been a pleasant surprise when Rina had shown it to me. I was eager to see what Amy Saunders had written about me in the article, also I wanted to see what she had written about Beckett.

"Hello!" I called out as I closed the front door. "I'm home, and I bought Chow Fun."

"Hey, Dad." Alexis said as she came down the stairs.

"Hey."

"Oh nice." Alexis said, noticing the stack of magazines I was holding. Quickly she relieved me of the the magazines as we made our way to the kitchen. "But I already picked up a copy on my way home."

She placed them on the counter.

"Well, did you read it? Was she kind?" I asked expectantly.

Show me a writer who says he or she does not care about reviews or magazine articles and I will show you a liar. When we sit down to do an interview for a magazine, like _Cosmopolitan_ we hope that the writer will make us look good. You would not be human if you did not. Even now for me, after being a successful author for many years now, I still have this expectation that the writer has been kind in the article they've written. Over the years there have been one or two hatchet jobs done on me. It can be hurtful but you develop a thick skin and try not to let the article get to you.

"The writer loved you." Alexis informed me. "She loved Detective Beckett. She even loved the book. It was your basic puff piece."

I could live with 'your basic puff piece'. I rather welcome it. It's far better than a hatchet job. Alexis was gathering things to set the table while I pulled out takeout boxes and started placing them on the dining table.

"Well I'm sure my mother will find something to say that will keep me from getting too puffed." I sighed.

Mother took particular relish in pricking my balloon when ever I had a new book published.

"Not tonight she won't." Alexis informed me. "She's in her room mourning the death of her career."

"Oh, she didn't get that play?" I said unhappily.

"She did. Just not the part she wanted." Alexis said. "The producers said she's not right to play the lead. They want her to play the crazy granny."

"Oh, the crazy granny." I winced.

Now if I was casting the play, I would have told Mother that she was born to play the role of the crazy granny. Thankfully I wasn't casting the play. And I certainly wasn't going to mention anything along those lines to Mother. If you think we writers have delicate and over inflated egos, try living with an actress, or growing up with one.

"Who dies in Act One." Alexis continued.

"Oh."

"Off stage."

"Oh." I winced again.

My phone started ringing. I pulled it out and checked the caller ID.

"No." I said as I sent the call straight to voice mail.

"You expecting a call?" Alexis asked.

"A call back, actually." I replied. "I met a nice young woman at Fashion Week. I left her a message about an hour ago."

"A model?"

"Mm-mmm."

"Gee, Dad. Picking up hotties while you're working a case?" Alexis teased.

"She picked me up, as a matter a fact." I said. "She said we knew each other from somewhere."

"It's a curse being so irresistible." Alexis said mockingly.

"Mmm"

"What's this one's name? Lola? Bree? Tatiana?"

"Rina." I said.

"Did you say, Rina?" A look of surprise appeared on my daughter's face.

"Yeah." I nodded my head.

"Blonde hair?" Alexis questioned.

"Yeah."

"Bambi eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Cute little over bite?"

"Yeah."

A flood of recognition spread across Alexis' face. She smiled at me.

"Dad, you know Rina." she said. "She used to baby sit me."

"She used to what you?" I muttered looking confused.

"Baby-sit, remember? We watched _High School Musical_ together like a million times."

I started frowning as I searched through my memory.

"I...I vaguely remember a gangly girl with stringy hair and braces named, Katrina." I said.

"That's the one." Alexis confirmed. "She did the whole ugly-duckling-to-swan thing, shortened her name and became a model. That's so funny that you ran into her."

If you had listened very, very closely you would have heard the fast escaping rush of air out of my balloon as it rapidly collapsed.

"Yeah. Small and cruel." I muttered in a low voice.

A little over an hour ago I had been planning a nice dinner date in some out of the way little restaurant with a beautiful model from Fashion Week named Rina. Well that idea had crashed and burned in the most spectacular fashion, so to speak. Now all I could picture was a gangly girl with stringy hair and braces named Katrina.

Alexis and I sat down to dinner. Mother, still in mourning for the death of her career, declined the invitation to dine with us.

XXX

Next morning I had no sooner stepped out the front door ready to head to the precinct when Beckett called and told me to meet her down at the morgue. Lanie had something for us was her explanation. I found Beckett waiting for me in the front lobby of the morgue. I was pleased to see her waiting there as I half expected that she would have gone straight to see Lanie. It was a nice gesture and it meant a lot to me.

Beckett and I stood on one side of the autopsy table on which lay the body of Jenna McBoyd. Lanie stood opposite us.

"I'm putting the time of death between 2.00 and 5.00am." Lanie informed us.

"She left the party at midnight." Beckett said.

"So, where was she for two hours?" I questioned.

"Any signs of sexual assault?" Beckett asked the medical examiner.

"No, but she put up a fight." Lanie said. She pointed to the arms. "There's some bruising on her arms and hands, her dress was torn. There's a cut inside her cheek, indicating that she was slapped hard." Lanie paused a moment as she picked up a sheet of paper and held it to herself.

"But, here's the weird part. She was stabbed with something long and sharp. It wasn't your typical blade." Lanie added.

"How so?" Beckett asked.

"Well, based on the wound, I made a reconstruction."

Lanie passed over to Beckett the sheet of paper that she had been holding. Beckett studied it and I moved to stand behind Beckett to look over her shoulder. Lanie had drawn what looked like to me the Washington Monument.

"It's four-sided. It's slimmer at the tip and it get progressively wider at the base." Lanie informed us. "Also, I found traces of glass in the wound."

"She was stabbed with the Washington Monument?" I said looking at Lanie.

Beckett's phone started ringing. She passed over the drawing to me while she answered the call. It was Esposito reporting that he and Ryan had found the rooftop the stalker had used. It was right across the street from the victim's apartment on the east side. He and Ryan had found a lot of cigarette butts, soda cans and an empty package for a digital camera memory card. Beckett ordered Esposito to take the empty package to CSU to see if they could lift any prints and then rang off.

"Anything else?" Beckett addressed Lanie as she came back to the table.

"Yeah. Preliminary tox screen indicated her blood alcohol was 0.02, and there were traces of Addmair in her system."

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a form of speed." Lanie explained. "It's usually prescribed to people with ADD, but models have been know to buy it off the street and use it for weight loss."

"So much for being anti drug." Beckett said unhappily as she looked down at the body of Jenna McBoyd.

"I guess the job and the stalker weren't the only things making her tense." I remarked.

On the ride back to the precinct Beckett and I discussed what Lanie had provided us. The discussion did not lead us any closer to finding the killer but left us with more questions. Beckett lapsed into silence as we walked through the lobby and headed for the elevator.

Glancing at her I saw it was a thoughtful silence like she was thinking things over. That was fine, and I held my tongue in deference to her. It was a silent ride up to the homicide floor. Once the doors slid open on our floor we stepped out and started walking down the hallway.

"Do you find it odd Jenna had a stalker?" Beckett asked me.

"No, not really, why?" I replied.

"Well, she wasn't Heidi Klum." Beckett said. "She hadn't even a national campaign."

"Maybe the guy figured he was getting on the ground floor, stalker-wise, you know, beat the rush." I suggested.

We reached Beckett's desk and I caught sight of an opened copy of _Cosmopolitan_ laying on her desk.

"Oh you couldn't resist, could you?" I said grinning. I sat down and picked up the magazine skimming over the article. "Pretty nice, huh?"

"Yeah, if you like those sorts of fluff pieces." Beckett said dismissively.

"Fluff? The reporter made you sound like you're a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Angelina Jolie." I retorted. "And you're picture isn't half bad either. Although, you don't always need to cross your arms."

I have to admit I really liked the photo of the Beckett that ended up illustrating the article. The first thing that had struck me last night when I was looking at the article and pictures was how photogenic Beckett was. There are some women whom the camera absolutely loves and Kate Beckett is one of them. I have no doubt that she could have had a very successful modelling career had she chosen that as a vocation.

"It's fine." Beckett coolly.

"Then why are you upset?" I asked.

It had not escaped my eagle-eyed attention that a very noticeable change had come over the moment Beckett had sat down at her desk and I had started talking about the magazine article.

"I'm not upset." Beckett said.

"You look upset." I pointed out.

"But if you were upset, you would tell me, right?"

Beckett turned and looked at me. Oh, yeah she was upset about something but was trying hard not to let it show.

"I'm not." She countered.

" But if you were."

"It doesn't matter because I'm not upset." Beckett said carefully.

I was more than ready to pursue this matter and get to the bottom of why Beckett was upset. Sadly my efforts had to be put on hold with the arrival of Esposito and Ryan at the desk. They both sported big grins on their faces.

"Well, well, well, Richard Castle the man of the hour." Esposito said.

"Oh, you mean this?" I said holding up the magazine. "Pretty flattering, right?"

I looked at Beckett. "At least, I thought so." Beckett gave me a roll of her eyes.

"Old news, my friend. We're talking about yesterday, Fashion Week." Esposito explained.

"Word on the street is you brought back a little souvenir." Ryan said.

"The digits of a particularly young honey named Reno?" Esposito said.

"Rina." Ryan corrected.

I shot a look in Beckett's direction and found she was wearing a guilty smile on her face.

"I might have mentioned it to them in passing." She confessed.

"Come on, Castle. Take pity on your model-deprived brothers." Esposito begged. "Give us the stats. Was she the sexy, curvy, lingerie type that you could just..."

"Or the toned and tanned bikini-wearing type?" Ryan interjected with a hopeful smile.

I was feeling decidedly uncomfortable with this discussion and I was showing it. I squirmed in my seat. Vision of a gangly girl with stringy hair and braces by the name of Katrina, popped into my head.

"She's more like the, 'I'm totally psyched I just got my driver's license' type." Beckett remarked, a little too cattily to my way of thinking.

As I turned to look up at the boys I noticed a uniform stop by Beckett and hand her a file. I pointed up to the boys using the rolled up magazine in my hands.

"Okay, you know what?"I said. "You two need to evolve, because that little girl you're talking about like a piece of meat, that's somebody's daughter, alright?"

The vision of the gangly girl with streaky hair and braces by the name of Katrina returned.

"She's somebody's baby-sitter." I added in a low voice.

I was rather surprised at this outburst of mine. For more years than I could remember I would talk to guys in the same way as Esposito and Ryan were talking, about some model I dated. Yet here I was scolding the boys for doing what most men do and feeling outraged at their talk. I suppose having a daughter not much older than Rina had really brought it home to me.

"You guys, CSU matched a print off the memory card packaging." Beckett announced. She handed the file up to Esposito.

"Will James." Esposito said, reading the file.

"Uh-huh, real charm boy." Ryan remarked as he too looked at the file. "On probation for domestic assault. A couple of restraining orders."

"Sounds like our guy." Esposito confirmed.

XXX

James' apartment was located on the top floor of a three storey building next to a grocery store in one of the less salubrious parts uptown. On entering the building we stopped by the building manager's office and found that James was out. We got him to come up with us to let us into his apartment.

Beckett pounded on the front door. "Will James, NYPD."

There was no response and Beckett stepped back, motioning to the building manager to open the door. He unlocked the front door and quickly stepped aside allowing Esposito and Ryan to go through with their guns drawn. Beckett followed the boys in and I followed Beckett.

Will James' apartment was a small one bedroom, open plan abode that was nicely furnished and kept neat. Esposito and Ryan quickly moved through the apartment to make sure that it empty of anyone.

"We're all clear." Esposito announced, holstering his gun.

"Yeah, we're clear in here too." Ryan reported.

Beckett immediately began to inspect the apartment. She had pulled on a pair of gloves as she walked over to a shelf on the wall where there rested some paperback novels and a few odds and ends. She picked something from off the shelf.

"You guys, look what I found." Beckett said as she turned around to show the boys.

"Jenna's comp card." She added as she passed it over to Esposito and moved off.

"Comp card?" Esposito said, sounding confused.

"Yeah, agencies use it to get models work." Beckett explained.

"A single comp card? That's not very stalkery." I said. "Where is the big creepy wall of Jenna?"

I could not help but recall to mind Kyle Cabot's place and that wall he had dedicated to me. There was no sign of it in this apartment.

"Beckett." Ryan called out as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Yeah?" Beckett said as she turned to face Ryan.

"I think I got something. A camera with a telephoto lens."

Ryan came over to stand beside Beckett and both were looking at the back of the camera body.

"What has it got on it?" she asked.

Ryan pressed a couple of buttons but the small screen showed no pictures.

Nothing. Maybe it's been erased." Ryan said.

He pulled out the camera's memory card and held it up. He smiled.

"Ah, Q-tech, four gigs." He declared. "Same as the package on the roof."

"Get it to CSU, see if they can recover the photos." Beckett ordered.

I had been looking around the apartment but had found nothing of interest.

"If this guy had a thing about Jenna, he was sure subtle about it." I remarked as I followed Beckett towards the bedroom.

"Did you know what a comp card is?" I heard Esposito say to his partner. There was no response from Ryan but I figured the Irishman was shaking his head in response.

"Yeah, me neither." Esposito added.

The front door began to open slowly. Esposito and Ryan both reached for their guns. Will James entered his apartment and found himself staring at two guns pointed at him. He shook his head.

"Can I help you, officers." He said.

"Will James? Get your hands up." Esposito commanded.

James complied with the order and raised his hands. Esposito moved in swiftly to turn him around and cuff him.

XXX

Will James was aged in his mid twenties just below average height, slim, with dark brooding looks, if you like your stalker that way. He could have landed himself a modelling contract if he chose that rather than being behind the camera and stalking people.

Beckett left him in the interrogation room to stew for about half an hour before we came in and sat down at the table opposite him. Beckett hit him with Jenna's murder. As you would expect he denied killing her. He also denied ever being on the building across from Jenna's apartment and taking pictures. This little dance went on for a while, with Beckett asking James the same questions and James supplying the same answers he had given the first few times.

"We can place you on the roof of the building across from her." Beckett told him. "So, if you weren't taking photos, what were you doing there?"

"I didn't kill her, alright?" James said firmly. "I wasn't even here on Sunday, I was working."

"Right, at the casino in Atlantic city." Beckett said with a note of disbelief in her voice. "Don't worry, we're running it down now."

Beckett paused a moment and picked up one of the evidence bags, the one that contained Jenna's comp card. She showed it to James.

"In the meantime, maybe you can explain how this got in your apartment." She said.

James smirked. His eyes went from Beckett to me before returning back to Beckett.

"Having pictures of hot chicks is not a crime." He stated, casting a look in my direction.

"No, but sending them threatening letters is." I said. "If I may."

I reached over and picked up an evidence bag which contained one of the letters Jenna's stalker had sent her.

"'You were wearing a lot of make up today. It made you look like a slut.'" I read aloud.

James laughed. "You guys think I wrote that?" He said with some amusement.

The interrogation was interrupted by the soft knocking on the two way mirror. Beckett paused the proceedings and rose to her feet. I got up as well and we headed out of the room.

On entering the observation room we found both Esposito and Ryan standing there.

"That guy is aptly named." I remarked, pointing in the direction of the window. "He gives me the willies."

"We have a problem," Ryan announced.

Beckett turned to look at Ryan.

"His alibi checks out." He added.

"You got to be kidding me?" Beckett said incredulously.

Both Esposito and Ryan shook their heads.

"I talked to the manager of the casino where he works." Esposito said. "He says that Will James was there the night the girl was killed."

Beckett shook her head as she weighed the information she had just been given and not quite believing it. I know how she felt because I did not believe what the boys had just dropped.

"There's got to be a mistake." She said.

"Maybe his boss is in on it. Covering for his friend?" I suggested to Beckett.

"I thought so, so they sent over the security footage." Esposito said, with a disappointed look on his face. "He was parking cars all night. He's not our guy."

This moment was one of those rare occasions where Potty Mouth Beckett made an appearance, dropping a couple of expletives that should not be heard around delicate ears. So those expletives have been deleted from this narrative because they should not be read by delicate eyes. Yet, I could sympathise because I wanted to drop a few expletives of my own. I shared her belief that Will James was our guy.

A short time later I was in the interview lounge leaning against the window. Seated at the table was Travis McBoyd. Beckett had called and had informed him that we had caught the stalker. She also asked him if he could come in for some follow up questions which he was only happy to do. It was a confused looking and tearful Travis who was sitting at the table. He had just been told that the stalker was his wife's murderer.

"Okay...I don't understand." Travis said.

"We're holding him on stalking charges." Beckett said as she came back to the table after having closed the door to the interview lounge and sat opposite Travis. "But he didn't kill her."

"He sent those letters, right?" Travis was looking more confused. "He took the pictures."

"We won't know for sure unless CSU is able to recover files from the camera." Beckett said. She leaned a little forward. "Whoever killed Jenna, we will find them. I promise."

Travis nodded his head. "Okay, just whatever I can do." He said.

"Well, there is something that we're trying to figure out." Beckett said. "The medical examiner said that she found Addmair in Jenna's bloodstream. It's a type of amphetamine."

"No, no, Jenna didn't use drugs." Travis insisted.

"Some people say that she'd been acting nervous lately." I said as I eased myself off the window and moved closer to the table.

"Sure, that was the stress." Travis replied. "Look, these letters, they really scarred her, she didn't want to tell people at work at work about them."

"How were things going for her at work?" Beckett said changing tack. "Was there anyone she didn't get a long with? Mr Farrow perhaps?"

"No, look, she loved Teddy." Travis replied. "She got along good with everyone."

Travis suddenly paused and frowned a little before he turned to look at Beckett.

"I don't know, maybe this one guy." He said. "A photographer. They had a fight."

"About what?"

"I guess he was the guy that was gonna shoot the Farrow campaign, so last week he and Jenna, they did this test shoot. She came home crying. Said her pictures were awful. She was worried she wouldn't get the job now."

"Did Jenna say what went wrong?" I asked Travis.

"She said that he didn't like her." Travis replied. "He was trying to ruin it for her by making her look bad."

Beckett opened her portfolio and picked up a pen before she looked at Travis.

"This photographer. Do you know his name?" She asked.

Travis gave us the name of the photographer whom Jenna had problems with. Beckett turned and looked up at me. We had heard the name before and we had seen the man himself. The name of the photographer was Wyatt Monroe.

XXXXX

_**Drop me a line and let me know what you think of this chapter.**_

_**Con **_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Case of Inventing The Girl

Part 3

Beckett and I quickly returned to Fashion Week and sought out Wyatt Monroe. It was not all that hard to find the man. He was standing at the foot of a runway shooting some models that were posing for him and several other photographer that were congregating around the runway. Camera flashes were going off left right and centre. I was almost regretting not bringing my sunglasses.

Needless to say, Wyatt was a little annoyed at being interrupted while he was working. Beckett was able to persuade him that it would be in his best interests to consent to answer a few questions that she had. Though it was not said aloud but the implication was put out there, that if Wyatt did not want to answer her questions here, there was another less hectic place she could take him where he could answer questions. Wyatt consented to answer Beckett's questions here at Fashion Week.

"Mr Monroe, what happened between you and Jenna?" Beckett asked.

Wyatt was taking a few shots of a tall girl in a long red strapless gown. It kind of reminded me of that night when I took Cinderella to the ball in that gown of hers. Mind you, Beckett's gown was far more sexier than than the one this model was wearing. I think that it had a lot to do with who was wearing the gown rather than the garment itself. Ah the memories, but I digress.

Wyatt stopped shooting and lowered his camera and turned to look at Beckett.

"Look, Jenna was a great model and a great girl, but that day she was unfocused, awkward." Wyatt explained. "We had words, but we resolved our issues."

"How?" I asked.

"I agreed to do another test, on my time and my dime." Wyatt replied. "We were supposed to meet yesterday after the runway show but..." Wyatt's voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Can you confirm where you were between 1.00 and 5.00am the night she died?" Beckett asked.

Wyatt looked thoughtful for a moment before he spoke.

"I was at the Zac Posen party until three and then home, asleep."

"Thank you, Mr Monroe."

Beckett pulled out her card and handed it to Wyatt. He did not even glance down at it before he shoved it into the pocket of his trousers.

We moved away from Wyatt just as Teddy Farrow was introduced onto the main stage to loud applause. Beckett and I moved through the crowd to get a closer look as Teddy walked up to the lectern. There was a large phalanx of photographers standing right up near the stage preventing further progress but both Beckett and I had a good view of the stage from where we were standing.

A bright spotlight fell on Teddy. His hair seemed a little more spiky than it was yesterday, as if he had just gotten up only a few minutes ago. Teddy wore a sad expression on his face as he began speaking.

"Good afternoon. It's been a hard week for us at Teddy Farrow. As I'm sure you're heard we lost one of own on Sunday night. Jenna McBoyd was taken from this world too soon. But even as we honour her memory, she would have wanted us to carry on."

This little speech of Teddy's sounded to me like it had been written by a spin doctor with a suggestion of talent. It had a nice balance of pathos and sincerity to almost make you believe that he meant what he was saying.

"And that's why I've invited you here to introduce the new face of my collection. She's an exciting talent, and together we will achieve great things...I give you Sierra Goodwin."

Suddenly two white sheets that hung on either side of the stage dropped to reveal huge floor to ceiling banners with a picture of a beaming Sierra Goodwin. There was an eruption of loud applause and photographers' flashes as another spotlight zeroed in on Sierra. She was standing off to one side of the stage. The moment the spotlight fell on her Sierra broke into a big smile gave a little wave to the crowd and then started making her way onto the stage to join Teddy.

She was smiling from ear to ear as she posed for photographs with Teddy Farrow. There was none of the sadness for having lost a friend in such tragic circumstances.

"There's Sierra, stepping in for her good friend Jenna again." I remarked. I glanced at Beckett. "Is it just me, or does she look really happy?"

I placed my had in the middle of Beckett's back and gently guided her away from the bruhaha taking place on and near the stage.

"What was it that Teddy was saying about his new face?" I said. "Her picture in every magazine, a billboard in Times Square, a huge pay cheque? Definitely worth killing for."

We came to a stop and Beckett looked at me with a sceptical expression on her face.

"Castle, you're talking about one girl murdering another for a job." She said.

"It's not a job, it's a campaign, a career maker. Jealously is a classic motive." I pointed out. "You've seen the films. _The Talented Mr Riply, Dead Ringers,_ and of course, the underrated classic, _Showgirls._"

"Nobody murdered anyone in _Showgirls_." Beckett retorted. Suddenly she blanched, having realised what she had just said. "I hear." She added hurriedly.

I smirked briefly at her unintended confession.

"Sierra wants to be Teddy's favourite, but she's always second choice. Sierra thinks, 'What if Jenna was gone? Then I'd be number one. Then I would finally get everything I deserve'. And then one night, she sees her chance. She lures Jenna somewhere quiet. And when Jenna turns her back, Sierra stabs her." I theorised.

"With the statue of the Washington Monument that she carries in her purse?" Beckett questioned.

"And then steals her shoes." I added.

"Mm-mmm."

Beckett's tone said loud and clear that she was not buying this theory that I was spinning for her.

"Not a perfect theory," I conceded. "But we're here anyway, so no harm in learning a little bit more about what makes Sierra Goodwin tick."

I started looking about and suddenly broke into a smile when I spotted the person I had been looking for. Rina was descending a set of stairs. She was wearing less make up today, and she certainly looked a little bit more like the gangly girl with the stringy hair and braces named Katrina that I remembered.

"And I see just the girl to clue us in." I added.

Placing my hand in the middle of her back I gently guided Beckett towards Rina. The girl spotted our approach and smiled coming towards us.

"Rick!"

"Ah, that's Mr Castle to you, missy." I gently chided her and smiled. "Rina, this is Detective Beckett, Detective Beckett, Rina. She used to baby-sit me. Or, I mean, Alexis."

Beckett turned and looked at me with an amused smile on her face. "You don't say?"

"Actually we're here about Jenna." I said to Rina.

"Oh, that was so terrible." The girl replied.

"Yeah. Was it true that she and Sierra Goodwin were kind of BFFs?" I asked.

"I wouldn't say BFFs." Rina replied. "Sierra's more like a frenemy."

"How so?" Beckett asked.

"She doesn't play well with others." Rina informed us.

"She ever push anyone down the stairs?" I asked.

Rina shook her headd. "No. Stupid stuff really." She said. "Lying about when a call time is. Itching powder in your underwear." Suddenly her face brightened a little. "Wait, and this one time, she crushed up a diet pill and dropped it into another model's champagne."

"You're saying she dosed someone?" Beckett said, frowning.

Rina nodded. "The girl got all wired and called Calvin Klien a boring old fart." There was a wide-eyed look of horror on Rina's face as she added; "To his face."

"Oh." I muttered.

That certainly could have been a career destroyer, calling one of the doyens of the New York fashion scene an 'old fart'.

"Thank you, Rina." Beckett smiled. "You've been very helpful."

Rina could called away by a floor manager guy but as she departed she signalled 'call me'. I could only smile back at her.

Turning my gaze to Beckett I found she had walked off a few steps and she was in deep thought. I moved over to her.

"You got something you want to share with the class?" I asked her.

Beckett turned to look at me, her face still creased with a frown.

"I was just thinking, maybe Jenna didn't use drugs." she said. "Maybe Sierra was slipping them into her drinks when Teddy Farrow was around, to make her seem crazy or paranoid."

That was a theory that had legs.

"Now that is an evil deed worthy of the _Showgirls_ special edition." I declared.

Beckett looked over my shoulder and her frown turned to curiosity.

"What are those two doing here?" She asked.

Turned around and to my surprise I saw Esposito and Ryan standing a short distance away. Ryan was in the process of finishing off some item he had swiped from a passing waiter and Esposito was sipping from a flute of champagne. Esposito nodded his head and then held up a file for us to see.

We found a small side room where several long tables had been set up with flutes of champagne and other alcoholic drinks which waiters collected and took them into the main room. There was another long table that had plates of hors' doeuvre. The staff ignored our presence.

"Okay guys, what's going on?" Beckett demanded the moment we entered.

"Tech managed to recover the deleted photos from Will James' memory card." Esposito said. "He might not have been Jenna's killer but he was definitely her stalker."

Esposito passed over the file to Beckett, opening the file she found a series of photographs. She looked at a couple of them. They were similar to the ones that Jenna had received.

"And you drove all the way down here just to show me this?" Beckett said, looking up from the photos and sounding sceptical.

"We thought you'd want to see them right away." Ryan added.

"That is so thoughtful of you guys." I said looking from Ryan to Esposito.

"What do you think, Beckett? You missing the glamorous life?" Ryan asked with a grin, his eyes on a passing model who made her way into the main room.

"The what life?" Beckett shot back.

That remark instantly got my attention and had my brain shifting into over drive with curiosity. What glamorous life was Ryan talking about? When it came to Beckett I was always curious and intrigued. Alas I was not to get an answer there and then.

"Castle, hey, is your girl here?" Esposito said, drawing me away from my curiosity about Beckett and her mysterious past.

"Rina." Ryan added with a smirk.

"Rina used to baby-sit Alexis, fellas." Beckett informed the boys, coming to my rescue. She looked at me with a smile. "So far as Big Rick here is concerned, she might as well be wearing a chastity belt."

"Thank you for that visual image." I replied glumly. In the next nano second, I grinned at her. "And thank you for calling me Big Rick."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at that last remark of mine. There was also a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Hey, by the way, our buddy Will has a girlfriend we might want to talk to." Esposito said. "There's some photos of her in the back."

"Mmm, naked photos." Ryan added.

Beckett pulled out the photos at the back of the stack that were in the file. A look of surprise spread across her face as she recognised the person in the photos. She looked over to me.

"Castle, check this out."

"Look at naked pictures?" I said, trying not to sound too excited. "Okay."

I took a look at the photos in question. Surprise registered on my face. They were photographs of Sierra Goodwin in various stages of undress. I looked up from the photos at Beckett.

"She's Will James' girlfriend?" I questioned. "Looks like Teddy Farrow isn't the only guy that Sierra was modelling for."

In that moment I saw the determined glint in Beckett's eye and I knew what she was about to do. The boys too understood what was about to unfold. They put their serious faces on and followed Beckett as she strode out of the side room and into the main room. I was right behind them unable to hide the look of amusement from my face. This was going to be fun.

It did not take Beckett all that long to locate Sierra. One only had to find where the source of the heaviest flashes were and there would be Sierra. The new face of the Teddy Farrow collection was surrounded by photographers and reporters with Teddy Farrow standing right beside her, all clingy and smiley. He was answering reporters' questions while Sierra was smiling so much I'm sure that the muscles in her face were screaming with complaint at being in a fixed position for so long.

Well, the smile on Sierra's face was quickly wiped away when Beckett muscled her way through the scrum of photographers and reporters, held up her badge and informed the new face of Teddy Farrow's Collection that she was under arrest for murder.

There was instant pandemonium, night turned into day as the photographers went into overdrive capturing every second of Sienna's arrest. Her face was frozen in shock as Esposito snapped the cuffs on her wrists and with Ryan on the other side of her she was escorted out of the Fashion Week hall. Teddy Farrow was apoplectic in outrage.

And there amidst all this mayhem was Detective Beckett, standing tall and implacable, ignoring the calls from the photographers to turn this way or that way so that they could take her photo, ignoring the questions thrown at her by the reporters, ignoring the outraged demands from Teddy for an explanation at this outrageous intrusion, a glint of triumph and satisfaction in her hazel eyes, and a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. I don't think I'm telling any tales out of school but, God, she looked so hot!

XXX

Sierra Goodwin's arrest had caused a bit of a stir at the precinct. Well it is not every day a supermodel is arrested in such a public manner. On our return to the precinct Sierra was deposited in an interrogation room and Beckett set about preparing for the interrogation. Sitting beside her desk I could not help but notice a parade of uniforms and detectives making their way past the room where Sierra was ensconced.

Captain Montgomery called us into his office for a briefing. He wanted to be brought up to speed because, though he did not say it, he was going to get calls from either the Mayor or the Commissioner. Just before he sent us on our way, a call came through for the Captain. I thought it might have been the Big Cheese. It turned out to be the desk sergeant from downstairs calling up to give us a heads up that Teddy Farrow was on his way up. Captain Montgomery told us to go and meet him.

We reached the elevator just as the doors slid open disgorging a still outraged Teddy Farrow.

"Have you any idea of the spectacle you just caused?" Teddy said his anger rising.

Beckett did not respond, she merely motioned him to follow her. He fell into step beside her.

"I mean, why the hell would you drag the face of my campaign out my launch party and bring her down here as if she was some sort of criminal?"

We had reached the bullpen. Beckett stopped walking and turned to look at Teddy. There was disbelief on her face at the way he was carrying on. Truth be told there was disbelief on my face too. The man was more concerned about his collection than the death of a young woman who worked for him.

And people call me shallow and self centred.

"Because she is." Beckett said tersely.

Esposito came up to us with a small smile on his face.

"Will James' confession." He announced as he passed over the written confession to Beckett. She quickly scanned it. Beckett had ordered the boys to grill James further, seeing that he had photos of Sierra Goodwin on his camera.

"He admits Sierra hired him to take the stalker photos of Jenna. He even helped her write the letters. And he claims he was supplying Sierra with Addmair."

Beckett nodded her thanks to Esposito then turned her attention to Teddy.

"She was dosing Jenna." Beckett informed him. "She was trying to make her seem paranoid around you."

"Why would she do that?" Teddy asked, looking confused.

"To prey on the fears of a naïve couple." I told him. "Pressure them into moving back to Ohio so Sierra could take her place."

The confusion remained on Teddy's face, it was as if I had spoken in a foreign language.

"Mr Farrow," Beckett said. "Have you ever heard of the expression, 'I would kill for that job'?"

Confusion turned to a frown as Teddy looked at Beckett.

"But she was my face. My face!" He exclaimed. "I mean, have you any idea what this will do to me? The scandal? It will taint the entire spring line."

On hearing that even I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

"A girl is dead, Mr Farrow. Does that mean anything to you?" Beckett gritted out.

"It doesn't mean my business have to suffer." Teddy countered.

"They're just clothes."

"Just clothes, Detective." Teddy was outraged that someone would have the temerity to make such a claim. "Clothes are civilisation. Clothes are what separate us from animals."

Beckett took a step closer to Teddy. For a moment I thought she was going to hit the guy. I was suddenly in two minds whether to intervene or not to prevent it from happening. However Beckett did not hit Teddy Farrow but from the look on her face there was more than a little part of her that desperately wanted to. She glared at Teddy.

"Not always." She told him in a cold tone of voice.

Beckett quickly moved away from Teddy, leaving him standing there in the middle of the bullpen. I moved to catch up with her. She glanced at me and shook her head. I returned the head shake and added a small smile. I was not surprised that she did not deck the pompous, self centred clothes designer. I marvelled at her discipline, though I would not have blamed her if she had tried to knock some sense or humanity into him. That she did not, shows who the better person was, and is.

Beckett made a detour to her desk and picked up her portfolio our next stop was the interrogation room where Sierra was waiting for us. This was going to be fun, I thought to myself as I fell into step beside Beckett.

Beckett threw open the door to the interrogation room and strode in exuding a commanding presence. I closed the door and sat down beside her and looked across the table to where Sierra was sitting. There was no smile on her face now. There was a nervousness about her. Beckett set the ball rolling by accusing her of murdering Jenna McBoyd. Sierra denied the accusation.

"She was your only competition." Beckett threw at her. "You needed her out of the way, and you were running out of time."

"No, no, I didn't kill her." Sierra replied.

"Right, you just drugged her and sent threatening letters." I scoffed.

"Where were you at 2.00am on Sunday night?" Beckett pressed.

Sierra did not answer immediately.

"Sierra, you're facing a murder charge." Beckett continued. "If you have something to say, now would be the time."

Considering how precarious her situation was right at this minute Sierra finally spoke.

"She went to Wyatt's place." she said.

"The photographer?" I clarified.

"Jenna wasn't not just being paranoid when she said Wyatt sabotaged her photo shoot. He did."

"Why?" Beckett asked, frowning a little.

Sierra explained that the reason Wyatt had sabotaged Jenna's photo shoot because she would not sleep with him. It was an open secret amongst the models. They give him what he wanted and he gave them great shots. If the girls did not give him what he wanted he could ruin a girl. Wyatt wanted Jenna.

"So, he was making her choose between her career and her marriage vows?" Beckett said. "Nice guy."

"She knew that the photos from the second test had to be great or she really could lose the job." Sierra explained. "She needed him to do it right this time."

"So what happened on Sunday?"

"She told me that she had a plan. I figured she was going to give Wyatt what he wanted." Sierra said. "I just told her, it's not the worst thing in the world, you know? You might even like it, I did."

Sierra offered up a hesitant smile and a shrug of her shoulders. "That was the last time I saw her alive."

Beckett got Sierra's statement down on paper and then passed her over to the uniforms to wait until her story checked out.

XXX

I was sitting at Beckett's desk going over the case so far with Beckett. Ryan and Esposito came over to her desk.

"Yo, Beckett." Esposito called out as he approached.

"Yeah?"

"We got the rundown on Wyatt Monroe. No priors. But his apartment is right next door to the arts centre, and his living room over looks the fountain where Jenna was killed." Esposito reported.

"He lives next to the crime scene?" Beckett said in surprise.

"We ran the alibi he gave you." Ryan joined in. "Witnesses at the Zac Posen party said he left around 11.30pm."

"He told us he left at 3.00am." I pointed out.

"Oh there's more." Esposito said. "We checked with the Teddy Farrow people. They said he got to their party just before midnight."

Beckett turned to look at me.

"He lied to us." She said, her eyes narrowing.

I nodded my head. I could not help but smile a little. Wyatt Monroe was about to find out what happens to naughty people who lie to her.

XXX

It was early evening when Beckett and I arrived at Wyatt Monroe's apartment. He was a little surprised to find us standing on his door step. There was a note of reluctance on his face when he stepped aside to let us in.

Wyatt's apartment was a spacious open plan affair that was furnished with minimalist furniture and decorated with large paintings and framed photographs. It screamed to me 'bachelor pad'. As Wyatt escorted us as through the apartment toward the living room area I skipped ahead towards the windows that overlooked the plaza.

"I can't tell you how shocked I was when Sierra was arrested." Wyatt remarked.

"Are you two close?" Beckett asked.

"I wouldn't say close, but I did a number of sessions with her." Wyatt said.

"So we've heard." I remarked as I studied the view of the water fountain where Jenna McBoyd's body had been found. I turned to look back where Beckett and Wyatt were standing. "That's a really nice view."

"Thanks." Wyatt turned to look at Beckett. "So, how can I help you?"

I quickly left the window and moved over to the furniture in the living room. I got down to my hands and knees and began to look underneath the armchairs and couch.

"You can tell me why you didn't mention going to the Farrow party on Sunday night?" Beckett challenged.

"Must have slipped my mind." Wyatt said with a nervous smile. "It's Fashion Week. I go to a lot of parties."

Wyatt noticed Beckett's gaze shift over to where I was looking under his furniture.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He called out to me.

I paused in my search and lifted my head.

"Oh, don't mind me." I replied breezily.

"Did you talk to Jenna at the party." Beckett brought Wyatt's attention back to herself.

I found what I was looking for. They were under the couch. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a pen then reached out to gather the object of my search.

"I think I did. But just to say hello." Wyatt told Beckett.

"You didn't plan on a rendezvous later at your place?"

Though I was too busy retrieving evidence, I could well imagine the look on Beckett's face as she had asked Wyatt that question. I had seen it a few times already. It was a knowing look, a suppressed smile that seemed to say: 'keep digging a hole for yourself jackass'.

"No."

"Oh really?" I said as I sat back and lifted up a pair of pink ladies shoes for Beckett and Wyatt to see. "Then whose are these? Christian Louboutin pink satin pumps, on loan from Teddy Farrow."

"I don't know who those belong to." Wyatt said hurriedly, looking more than a little nervous.

Beckett pointed towards a glass obelisk that was sitting on a black wooden plinth.

"What is this award, Mr Monroe?" she asked as she moved towards it.

"It's the Hilo." Wyatt said.

"For excellence in editorial photography." Beckett read the inscription on the award. Her eyes shifted to to the second black wooden plinth which was empty of any award. "Looks like one of these is missing." She looked over to Wyatt as she pointed to the empty plinth.

"Mr Monroe where is it?" she asked.

"The cleaning woman, uh dropped it last week. It broke." Wyatt explained.

I had walked over to where Beckett was standing. I was still holding the pink satin pumps. I glanced at the award and then at Beckett.

"You know, it looks just like the Washington Monument." I remarked.

"It does, doesn't it?" Beckett agreed.

She turned and faced a now very nervous looking Wyatt Monroe.

Needless to say Wyatt Monroe found himself in no position to decline the invitation to join Beckett and myself at the 12th precinct to answer some serious questions.

XXX

I was seated at the table opposite a very worried looking Wyatt Monroe in the interrogation room. Beckett was standing. It really did not take all that long for Wyatt to break and spill. I mean how long can you continue to lie in the face of mounting evidence against you?

"Okay, look, Jenna was at my place on Sunday night." Wyatt said with a sigh. "But she was alive when she left."

"Why was she there?" Beckett asked.

"She found me at Teddy's party. She said that she had a change of heart. Wanted us to work together from now on as a team."

"And you assumed that was code for 'do me'." I remarked.

Wyatt looked at me and scoffed.

"We agreed to meet back at my place. She came in, we had a drink, got comfortable on the couch. I was ready to get down to business." Wyatt told us. "But she kept wanting to talk about our deal. That's what she called it. Said she wanted me to tell her exactly what she had to do to get good shots."

Beckett had been pacing the floor listening to Wyatt she stopped and turned her attention to him.

"She was trying to get you to incriminate yourself." She surmised.

"A master spy this girl was not." Wyatt said. " I grabbed her purse, pulled out her phone. The damn thing had an app on it that turned it into a recorder." Wyatt grew angry. Outraged that some one would do something like that to him. "She taped our whole conversation."

I turned to look up at Beckett.

"She wanted to record him demanding sex for good shots so she could play it for Teddy Farrow." I told her.

"Yeah."

"She grabbed the phone back. We struggled." Wyatt continued. "She picked up my award, started waving around and acting crazy. She smacked the Hilo on a bookshelf, the tip broke off. I tried to grab it."

Wyatt paused in his narrative and raised his left arm and pulled back on the sleeve to reveal a large bandage just below his elbow.

"She cut me with the edge." Wyatt explained. "So I backed off and she left."

There was a moment of silence. I glanced over to the Beckett and I could see that she was considering what Wyatt had just said. Suddenly she was animated. She walked up to the table and stood over Wyatt.

"You know, that's a great story, but I don't believe you." Beckett told him.

"Just listen to the recording on her phone." Wyatt exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth."

"Her purse was never found. So it looks like the evidence that will clear you is lying in some landfill somewhere, along with your Hilo." Beckett straightened up. "Tough break." she added.

There was a stunned look on Wyatt Monroe's face as the realisation that he was definitely facing a murder charge hit him. The colour slowly drained from his face.

Wyatt was sent to holding in preparation to be charged with murder and then to be sent on to Central Booking. Beckett and I entered the bullpen to find Ryan and Esposito putting files away into boxes.

"Here I thought modelling was glamorous." Ryan remarked as he shoved a file into a box.

"Not everybody in that business is predatory." Beckett told him.

I parked myself against Beckett's desk. Esposito came over.

"It sure seems that way." He said. "Jenna's best friend was drugging her, and her photographer killed her."

"Even her clothing designer seemed more interested in his show than in her murder." I added.

"But at least we got the bad guy. That's something." Ryan remarked.

Glancing over my shoulder I saw Beckett had a thoughtful look on her face, her forehead furrowed. Her eyes fell to the photograph of the pink pair of pumps.

"What?" I prompted.

Beckett looked up and turned her attention to us.

"If Wyatt killed her, why didn't he do a better job of cleaning up his place?" She questioned. "And why would he leave her body right outside his apartment?"

"Maybe he's not too bright." Esposito ventured.

"Or maybe he was telling the truth." She declared. "Maybe he didn't do it."

There was that determined glint in her eyes again. I noticed the boys slowly deflate as they realised that their plans for going home had suddenly changed. Beckett noticed their expressions too and surprised them by announcing they could go home, that this was something that they could all pick up in the morning.

As I was leaving the bullpen I glanced over my shoulder to the sight of Beckett sitting at her desk her face buried in a file. As I was saying goodnight to her, I had told her that she should go home as well. Beckett made some noise about just taking care of one little thing and then she would be on her way. As I looked at her I got the distinct feeling, Beckett would not be heading home any time soon.

XXXXX

_**Drop me a line and let me know what you thought of this effort.**_

_**Con **_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The Case of Inventing The Girl

Part 4

I awoke relatively early the following morning. Dragging myself out of bed, I shrugged my arms into a robe tied it up and shuffled out of the bedroom and headed in the direction of the kitchen. The need for a healthy dose of caffeine to jolt me into full consciousness very prominent.

As I was fixing myself a cup of coffee I noticed that Mother was up. It was incredibly rare to find her awake at this hour of the morning, unless she was making a return home from some all night party she had been to.

She was seated on the couch dressed in a robe and was going through what looked like photographs. With coffee in hand I walked over to the couch and joined her. I had been right, Mother was going through some old photographs of herself, taken another life time ago.

"What's up with the stroll down memory lane?" I asked.

"I called my agent and told him to pass on the play." Mother informed me. "I said, 'Martha Rodgers does not die in the first act, and she never dies off stage'."

"Feel better?" I said.

"No." she sighed. "I feel rotten, I feel old. I'm dying off stage."

I smiled gently at her. Every now and then, especially when she doesn't get a part that she had set her heart on, and spent long hours preparing for the audition, Mother falls into despondency. Usually it's a mild bout and she can quickly rebound. This morning it was a little different. A little more serious.

"I was always the ingénue, the lead...the star." Mother lamented. "I liked it that way."

I picked up a photograph and studied it. It was a headshot of Mother, it was in black and white and taken some time in the Seventies, so it shows how old the photo was, colour film had not been invented yet. However I have to say that she was quite the looker back in her day. She must have been a real hottie.

Whatever you do, never, ever tell her I said that!

"It's a powerful thing, kiddo, to be young, beautiful, talented." Mother sighed. "No woman wants to give it up."

I looked up from the photograph in my hand to mother and smiled gently.

"You are still beautiful, and you are still talented. And you didn't give up your youth." I said in a gentle, reassuring and honest tone. I paused as I considered carefully what I going to say next.

"You traded it for wisdom."

"Wisdom." Mother said, almost looking touched at my words. Then she laughed. "Wisdom."

She reached over and took the photo I was holding in my hands and held it up for me to see.

"Give me that." she said firmly.

I started laughing just as my phone started ringing. I reached over and answered it.

"Rina? Hey, are we still on for that date tonight?" I said and smiled on hearing her response. "You remember where I live? I'll see you then."

I rang off and turned to find Mother giving me a pointed look.

"What?" I said.

"Alexis told me all about it." She said coolly and with a disapproving look on her face. "That girl is too young for you. Or should I say, you are too old for her."

"It's not what you think." I replied.

"Oh."

"And unemployed divas who live in glass houses, rent free, should not throw stones." I added.

"Point taken."

With Mother's latest crisis averted, I finished my coffee and headed over to shower and get dressed, then head to the precinct to find out what Beckett had been doing since I had left her the night before.

XXX

Climbing up the stairs and walking into the bullpen I spotted Beckett on the phone. She had just finished the call and set the phone down and did a small 'victory' pirouette which I found rather adorable. I could not help but smile.

"What's the good word?" I inquired.

"Sunshine Electronics." Beckett announced as she turned to face me. A smile on her face.

"That's two words." I pointed out.

"Nope, that's where Jenna bought her new cell phone." Beckett informed me.

"What?"

As I suspected Beckett had stayed back and worked on the case. She told me that she had called Travis McBoyd last night and on a hunch had asked him if it had the capacity to record. Travis had advised Beckett that it could not. Armed with that information Beckett had checked into Jenna's credit card receipts. Lo and behold, Beckett had found that Jenna had purchased a new cell phone the day she died. The icing on the cake was this new cell phone that Jenna had purchased had GPS and she had the foresight to switch it on.

"You found it?" I said, my face brightening.

"In a dumpster on West 81st." Beckett confirmed. "Uniforms are bringing it in now."

I was very pleased with this information that Beckett had passed over. I congratulated her on her excellent work. Beckett in turn graced me with a beaming smile of thanks. Naturally enough this called for a celebratory cup of coffee that I was more than happy to make and bring to Beckett. She accepted the cup with another smile and a polite thanks.

The wait for the arrival of the cell phone did not take long. It had taken a detour to CSU to be dusted for prints. Beckett, the boys and I assembled in the conference room to hear what Jenna had recorded the night of her death. The phone sat in the middle of the table. Beckett was seated at the table while I stood in the corner of the room. Ryan standing at one end of the table and Esposito was standing across from Beckett. We were listening to the recording.

"_Stop it, Wyatt!"_

"_Give me that phone!"_

"So far, it's happening just like he said it did." I remarked.

Beckett murmured her agreement.

There was the sound of glass shattering on the recording.

"This is when he said she grabbed the weapon." Beckett said.

"_Give that to me!"_ Wyatt said angrily

"_You just stay away from me!" _Came Jenna's frantic voice.

"_Be careful with that thing!"_

There was a loud grunt of pain. Which was followed by:

"_Damn it! I'm bleeding you crazy bitch!"_

There was the sound of sobbing and the slamming of a door. Beckett looked up from the phone.

"Sounds like she left the place alive." she said.

"Doesn't mean he didn't go after her." Ryan pointed out.

"Yeah, If he was going to kill her, he wouldn't let her leave the apartment." Esposito added.

"Sssh, it's still going." I pointed out.

Four sets of ears strained to hear the recording, and we heard the sound of a sobbing Jenna McBoyd.

"_I need a cab. I've got to get out of here...Oh my God...did you follow me?...Wait, let go of me."_

There came the sound of a loud slap and Jenna's scream. However what startled all of us more was the sound that came next, after Jenna's scream, it only last for a few more seconds but the mid western accent was unmistakeable.

We all looked at each other in shocked surprise. I turned my gaze to Beckett and saw a look of disappointment on her face. None of us had seen that one coming.

XXX

"So, what's our plan?" I asked.

Beckett glanced up from the paperwork she was doing to look at me. We were at her desk, Beckett doing paperwork and me watching her. Our new main suspect had been put into the interrogation room half an hour ago after he had been brought in by Esposito and Ryan.

"Make him confess." Beckett said confidently.

While I admired her confidence I did not share it. I frowned a little.

"I don't think he's going to crack that easy." I replied, sharing my concerns. "I mean, what if he figures out we only have a partial recording? That the memory on the phone ran out before the actual murder took place?"

"He won't."

Beckett rose from the desk. I got to my feet as well and we started walking through the hallway heading for the interrogation room.

"We, uh, we don't have any proof that he did it." I pointed out. "I mean, what if he shuts down and doesn't talk?"

"He won't."

"He's not a stupid man. He might ask for a lawyer."

"He won't."

We reached the door to the interrogation room. Beckett stopped and turned to look at me.

"Look, let me handle this. You can go in if you want, but don't speak." She said.

"I just..."

"Don't speak." Beckett said in a firm tone of voice.

I zipped my mouth and gave her a nod of my head. Beckett gave me a mirthless grin opened the door and walked into the interrogation room. Travis McBoyd was leaning against the far wall. Beckett walked up to the table and from her pocket produced Jenna's mobile phone. She place it in the middle of the table. I took up a position beside the two way mirror and watched what was to unfold.

Beckett propped herself against the table, half sitting on it. She pressed the play button on the phone. A moment later we heard Jenna's voice.

"_Why did you follow me?"_

"_Well it seems I had a good reason." _Said the voice of Travis.

Travis straightened up, looking shocked at hearing his own voice coming from the recording. Beckett stopped the recording and looked over at Travis.

"Okay, wait, she was recording me?" Travis said in disbelief.

"You followed her to Farrow's party Sunday night, and then to Monroe's apartment." Beckett told him.

"You don't understand! She just...She'd been acting so strange lately." Travis replied. "And then Sierra tells me about this photographer."

"You talked with Sierra about Wyatt Monroe?" Beckett said, surprised.

Travis nodded his head. He came over and sat down.

"She was worried about me and Jenna." Travis said. "That it was...more than just business between them. Something was going on." Travis paused a moment before he looked at Beckett and resumed speaking. "Look, once this was in my head...I...I couldn't stop thinking about it. Yeah, I followed her to the party. They were together. When she didn't go home and she went to his place. I knew."

"Okay, so then you waited." Beckett prompted.

"She came out, her clothes were all messed up. Her lipstick was rubbed off." There was a distasteful look on his face when he said that.

"You called her a whore." Beckett accused.

"I told her that she was my wife. My wife." Travis replied in a raised voice. "And she...she started crying. She said I didn't understand, and that I was just like the others."

Beckett eased herself off the table and sat down in her chair. She looked over to Travis.

"Travis, I can't help you unless you tell me the truth." She told him.

I had been watching the interaction between Beckett and Travis. Travis did not appear like he was going to talk. I was afraid he was at the point of clamming up under Beckett's good cop, so I decided to break the promise I had made to Beckett. Time for bad writer to make an appearance. I figured she could punish me later if this did not work.

I pushed myself off the window I had been leaning against and came up to the table and leaned over Travis.

"And then you slapped her hard enough to cut her cheek." I said, almost shouting. Beckett cast me a look but my gaze on focused on Travis.

"Look, I didn't mean...look, I just...I couldn't...I couldn't see straight." Travis stammered. Suddenly he rose from the chair he had been sitting and began to pace the floor. "It's like I wasn't even myself

anymore. I was so mad. I just...I didn't even know what I was doing..."

"And so you killed her." Beckett filled in the silence.

"No! No. I didn't kill her." Travis denied. "Teddy did."

"Teddy Farrow?" Beckett scoffed.

"Oh man, it was always Teddy. It was Teddy this, Teddy that. Just like whispering in her ear, you know." Travis said angrily. "Telling her how to walk, how to talk, who to be. Just feeding her mind with lies. I'll tell you what, if anyone did it, it was him."

Beckett rose from her chair and stared at Travis. "It was you, Travis, in the plaza, not Teddy." Beckett told him in an even voice. She moved slowly to stand at the head of the table close to Travis, her eyes focused on him. "Standing by the fountain, thinking about all the things you'd done for her. About how you moved to this city that you hated only to be treated like this. Now, she had something in her hands, something sharp. What was it?"

Travis remained silent not answering Beckett's question. I glanced at Beckett and saw the hard look on her face. It was as if Travis in his silence was calling Beckett's bluff and she was ready for it. She reached with her hand and her finger hovered over the play button on the cell phone.

"Travis, do you really want me to turn on that tape?" She told him evenly. "Do you really want to listen to what you said, and what you did?"

For what like seemed for ever Travis did not speak. His face contorted with anger and anguish. Beckett's finger continued to hover over the play button. For a moment, just a moment I thought that Travis had called her bluff and she had nothing. I was not even breathing as I watched the stand off.

Travis broke the silence, finally.

"She was holding this broken glass. Told me to stay away."

I found myself breathing again. I could not help but marvel at Beckett and how she had kept her cool, and didn't flinch. She had read the guy correctly and merely waited him out.

"And you took it from her." Beckett said.

"It just happened."

"What happened?"

"I...I...stabbed her. I stabbed her in the back. She was...she was going to leave me. I loved her so much. I just...I couldn't let her leave me."

"She wasn't going to leave you, Travis." Beckett told him, a sad look appearing on her face.

She moved and sat down in her chair again. She reached over and pressed the rewind button on the phone. Then she pressed play.

"_What the hell! You're recording me?"_

"_Give it back, Wyatt. I...I didn't know what else to do...I...I want the job, Wyatt, but I love my husband. I can't do this to him. You're hurting me. I just want to go home! I want to go home!"_

Beckett switched off the recording and looked across the table. Travis's face had crumbled at the enormity of what he had done.

"Home." Beckett said in a low voice. "She was trying to go home to you."

Travis started sobbing, covering his face with his hands. I certainly did not feel any sense of victory of having gotten our killer to confess. Looking over at Beckett I saw that she shared my sentiments.

XXX

Emerging from the interrogation room Beckett and I walked back to her desk.

"That was a risky bluff, threatening to play a recording we didn't even have." I remarked.

"It didn't seem like a risk to me." Beckett replied. "He loved his wife very much. He wouldn't want to relive her death."

I had to take my hat off to her. As I said before she had read Travis better than I did, and decided on that risky course of action. It ended well when he confessed of killing his wife. We reached Beckett's desk.

"Well, what about Sierra? What about Wyatt Monroe? They just go free? That doesn't sound like justice." I said.

"I spoke with Teddy Farrow this morning." Beckett informed me. "Now that he understands what those two did to Jenna, he's going to launch a very different kind of campaign. He's going to get them blackballed in the industry. No one will hire them again."

"Ah, you mean poetic justice." I said, my face brightening. We sat down. "Well, as a writer, I guess I can live with that."

"I wish I could feel that way. I wish I could feel a sense of victory." Beckett said with a sigh.

I knew exactly how she felt. Beckett looked at me.

"So, what would Nikki Heat do after a bad day?" She asked.

"She'd go home, pour a stiff drink, run a hot bath and read a good book." I said staring into the distance.

"Too bad I don't have a good book to read." Beckett lamented.

"Mmm, I'd let you have _Heat Wave _but my publisher doesn't want any copies leaking out."

"Why'd you let the _Cosmo_ reporter read it?"

"Well, that's for publicity purposes." I informed her. "You know, you want the press to have a little taste of..."

Suddenly I snapped out of my reverie and looked at Beckett.

"Wait, whoa, whoa...is that why you've been so upset? Because I let her read it before you?"

"I'm the inspiration. I should be reading it before a reporter does." Beckett said tersely.

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"Why didn't you just give it to me?"

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Why didn't it occur to you?"

That pulled me up sharply. In all honesty I had no answer for her. Beckett was right. It should have occurred to me. How in the world had it not occurred to me I will never know. I felt very bad about it. I could have kicked myself for this stupid lapse of judgement. I would correct that as soon as possible.

"You'll have it tomorrow." I told her.

"Good." Beckett said with a smirk.

"Good."

I rose to my feet and left for the day. I had a call to make to Gina to secure a copy of _Heat Wave_ for Beckett and I had a distinct feeling that it was going to cost me more than a pound of flesh.

For the next part of the story I am indebted to Detective Kevin Ryan.

Beckett was smiling to herself in victory upon my departure. After savouring that small victory over me she turned on her computer. Once it came to life there on the screen was a photograph of herself modelling tennis wear. The smile was wiped from her face on seeing the photograph. The colour drained from her face when she recognised the photograph.

"Looking good, Detective Beckett." Esposito called out, grinning.

"How did you guys...?" Beckett stammered.

"We're detectives." Ryan smirked.

"Called your dad." Esposito clarified.

Beckett rose to her feet and walked over to where Ryan and Esposito were sitting.

"Okay, okay. You guys have had your fun." she said. "I was seventeen and I thought that modelling would be an easier way to make money than waitressing." Beckett whispered the word 'modelling'.

"Right." Esposito nodded.

"It was one summer, no big deal."

Beckett turned and started back to her desk accompanied by the sniggering from Ryan and Esposito.

Suddenly she spun on her heels and came back glaring at the boys.

"And if you guys tell Castle about this, I will kill you!"

XXX

I arrived home a couple of hours after having left the precinct. The call I made to Gina turned into a visit to Black Pawn. I was right about Gina exacting a pound of flesh from me. I think I might have also signed my life away but I'm not sure. She had me sign a number of confidentiality agreements that I ended up

writer's cramp.

I was in the kitchen preparing diner. Alexis was with me helping out. The front door opened and Mother made her entrance.

"Good evening, my dears." She called out in a cheerful tone of voice as she came over.

"Hey, there." Alexis said.

"You look in brighter spirits." I observed. "What's changed since this morning?"

"The play that I passed on, the producers came back with a better offer." Mother explained. "I was at the Dorchester signing my contracts."

"So, you got the lead?" I said with some excitement.

"Well, no, I still play the crazy granny."

"But you...don't die." Alexis said.

"No, still die."

"More money." I suggested.

"Peanuts." Mother scoffed.

Well I was confused and judging by the look on my darling daughter's face she was confused as well as to why Mother was in such a cheerful mood.

"Alright, so what's the better offer?" I ventured.

"They have rewritten the script so that I die on stage. My death closes act one." Mother informed us. "It's better than the lead, really. Granny is the bravura role."

I could not help but smile. "In art as in life." I said.

"Aww." Mother beamed at me.

Alexis reached out and hugged her grandmother. "I'm so proud of you."'

"Thank you, thank you my baby."

The door buzzer sounded. Alexis broke from her grandmother's hug and rushed over to answer the door.

"Are we expecting company?" Mother inquired as she glanced at me.

"That's Rina." I informed her.

"Oh of course your date."

"Not my date."

I had given Rina a call the night before and invited her over. Alexis was eager to see her again.

Mother and I looked to the front door at the sudden eruption of giggling and squealing that two teenage girls are capable of.

"Hey are you ready for a _High School Musical_ marathon?" Rina, sans the heavy make up and exaggerated false eyelashes and looking like a normal teenage girl, said.

"I'm so ready." Alexis gushed.

Mother turned to look at me with an understanding smile.

"Hey Rina." I called out.

"Hi Mr Castle." Rina called back and waved.

The two girls dashed up the stairs to disappear into Alexis' room.

Mother regarded me.

"Colour me shocked." I said. "But apparently the modelling world isn't all sexy clothes and fun parties. It occurred to me that if Jenna McBoyd had someone looking out for her a little bit. She might still be alive today." I glanced in the direction of the stairs where the girls had disappeared up before I looked at Mother. "So, if Rina needs a friend, she knows she's got one."

Mother's smile broadened.

"Oh my son the big softy." she said as she reached out and pinched my cheek. "And don't worry, I know you have an image to protect. Your secret's safe with me."

XXX

Oh and by the way, it wasn't from Detective Ryan that I learned about Beckett's short lived career as a model. I knew about it before he told me about the picture on her computer.

What, did you really think I would not discover Beckett's little foray into the modelling world? Did you really think I would not do a Google search? Inquisitive me? I discovered the photos of Beckett in her cute tennis outfit and a few other ones of her that night after our second visit to Fashion Week. That remark of Ryan's had sparked my curiosity. I had figured a beautiful woman like Kate Beckett surely would have dipped a toe in the world of modelling. Like I said before, the camera loves her. Sure enough she had and I had found the photographic evidence.

Now, I could have had great fun teasing her mercilessly about these photos but I had a moment of clarity and I chose not to. If she wanted to tell me about them she would, eventually. The other reason I didn't mention them was because, though at the time I had been following Beckett around for only a short time, I had seen how hard it was for female uniforms and detectives alike be taken seriously by many of their male colleagues. So I did not want to make it difficult for her. The other reason I did not mention the photos or tease her about them was because I didn't want to embarrass her. I wanted her to like me.

XXXXX

_**So what did you think of this? Let me know your thoughts by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	13. Chapter 13

I was in my office working. I was putting down some more ideas for future _Nikki Heat_ novels. To date I had not heard anything from Gina or anyone else from Black Pawn about any future books about the tough but savvy and beautiful NYPD detective creation of mine. Gina and her minions had loved the first book I had submitted and it was not far off, the day it was to be launched. As to any signs of any future books, not a word. Not even Paula, my agent had heard a whisper about it.

Despite that, I was still writing down ideas, creating little plots that could be expanded into full blown novels, drawing scenes that could be incorporated into stories. It surprised me how much work I had been doing, or should that be how much work Nikki Heat was making me do? Well, truth be told I could not help but be inspired by my muse.

There I was working away when the door bell sounded. I did not pay it much notice figuring that either Alexis or Mother would answer it. My two favourite red heads were at home this morning. The door bell sounded again. This time I did take notice of it. Finishing off a sentence I rose to my feet strolled out of the office and went to answer the door.

On opening the front door the smile of greeting that was forming on my face died a swift death when I found a young man aged somewhere in his early twenties standing there. He broke into a smile.

"Hi, I'm Dylan." The young man said. "I'm here for Alexis."

I did not say anything and continued to look at him. He had the kind of looks that could easily land him a modelling contract with any of the big modelling agencies. What did he want with Alexis I wondered with some concern.

"I'm her new violin teacher." Dylan said as if he could read my mind. To emphasise the point he held up a violin case for me to see.

Still I did not move much less speak. I just continued to stare at him. At that moment Alexis came rushing down the stairs and to the door.

"Dylan, hi, thanks for coming." Alexis said with a smile. She glanced at me. "Dad, let him in."

"Yeah." I grunted in response and stepped aside.

Dylan, still smiling entered the loft and moved slowly towards the living room. Alexis was about to follow him but I quickly pulled her aside.

"What happened to Olga?" I asked her.

Olga had been Alexis' violin teacher for the past few years.

"She retired."

"So you went male model?" I questioned.

"Dylan goes to Julliard. He's a musical prodigy." Alexis explained. "I was lucky to get a lesson with him.

"Prodigies are supposed to look all nerdy and awkward." I replied motioning to where Dylan was standing. "Not that."

This male model with a violin case was bothering me more than I cared to admit. He may have been a violin prodigy but he was also aged in his early twenties and I know what guys at that age have on their minds and I did not want him anywhere near my daughter.

Mother made her entrance stage right and caught sight of Dylan. She broke into a bright smile.

"Well, hello there." she said. "I'm Martha."

"Hi, Dylan."

They shook hands.

"Dylan! Oh, Alexis tells me you're very talented." Martha said. "And very strong, I might add. What a grip." She laughed.

If worrying whether my daughter's virtue would be safe in the presence of this male model of a violin prodigy was not bad enough, I also had to witness Mother flirting outrageously with some one who was young enough to be her grandchild.

"Uh, Grams?" Alexis said.

Dylan turned and smiled at Alexis. It looked too smooth a smile for my liking.

"Well, why don't we get started?" He said, his smile deepening. "I can assess where you are and then tomorrow we can start your lessons? Does that sound good?"

No, it did not sound good at all to me.

"Yeah, my room is upstairs." Alexis said.

"Lead the way." Dylan the male model violin prodigy said.

No way were they going upstairs. Who knows what they might get up to. I did not want the male model violin prodigy anywhere near my daughter's room but I did not want to look like the 'Uncool Dad' either. I rather prided myself on being the 'Cool Dad'.

"Uh...um..wh...why don't you do it down here?" I suggested. "You know how I love watching you play?"

"Nonsense!" Mother interjected. "She needs privacy, not a performance."

"Spoken with true artistic insight." Dylan told her, with a smile.

"Well, thank you." Mother simpered. "I'm an actor, so stands to reason."

Alexis and Dylan headed up the stairs.

"Well, he's a charming young man." Mother remarked as she glanced at me. "Well, I'm off. See you later, darling."

I had expected Mother to back me up on the request of mine but she had sided with Alexis. I'm sure those Red Heads have some kind of secret fellowship against me. With the damage done, she exited stage left.

"I liked Olga." I grumbled.

Before I could formulate any kind of plan to make an unexpected appearance upstairs my phone started ringing. Some of the agitation that I was feeling the moment I had opened the front door to find the male model violin prodigy standing there, was eased on hearing Detective Beckett's honeyed voice.

She was calling to inform me that a body had dropped and did I want in. Is the Pope Catholic? As much I hated leaving my daughter alone with the male model violin prodigy the call of a new murder to solve proved too strong. She gave me the address of the murder scene. A minute or two later I was out the door and on my way.

XXX

Arriving at the address that Beckett had given me I was more than a little concerned to find that it was an elementary school. There were several police cruisers parked out the front. I also noted Beckett's and Esposito's cars. There was tight knot in the pit of my stomach as one of the uniforms directed me to where Beckett and the boys could be found. I silently prayed that it was not the body of a child. A parent's worst nightmare. I didn't know what I would do if it was.

Walking along the hallway I spotted a uniform standing by the door where the murder scene was. I nodded to him as I walked in. I noticed another uniform standing at the back there and I greeted him.

"Hey, Mike." I waved to him. Mike nodded his head in greeting.

I turned and looked to the front of the classroom and saw Beckett and Ryan standing in front of a large screen TV. Esposito was off to the side interviewing a man whom I thought must have been a teacher. The next thing I noticed that the room was rather light on with CSU people and uniforms, and there was no sign of anyone from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. So, no little kid had been killed, the knot in my stomach eased considerably.

"Where's the body?" I asked as I approached Beckett.

"You didn't tell him?" Ryan asked Beckett.

"Tell me what?" I said when I reached them.

"And ruin the surprise?" Beckett replied, a smirk on her face.

"What surprise?" I asked, perhaps a little excitedly. As you know I like surprises.

On a nod from Beckett Ryan pressed the play button on the remote he was holding.

The TV screen came to life to reveal a bearded man sitting in a pup tent talking to the camera. There was snow storm blowing and flakes of snow danced and whirled across the screen.

"_Hey kids! I don't know if you can tell, but a blizzard just blew in an hour ago..."_

I glanced at Beckett. "Do we have jurisdiction in the North Pole?" I asked.

Beckett held up a hand. "Wait for it." She replied. I looked to the TV.

"_...in 50 mile-an-hour winds. Good thing..."_

Ryan raised the remote in his hand and fast forwarded the vision.

"_...of caribou I saw yesterday while I was out skiing."_

As I was watching the guy a human shaped shadow moved across the back of the tent.

"Okay, there comes the guy." Beckett pointed out.

"_...including four calves who had just started to grow..."_

As I continued to watch another shadow passed across and there was a silhouette of a gun.

"Whoa." I exclaimed.

"We see the gun." Beckett stated.

"_...trying to pull out my camera when...Oh! Wait, what are you ...No, no, no. Don't! Don't!"_

The guy started rising and reach off camera when there was a loud gunshot.

My eyes widened in surprise.

"That was awesome!" I exclaimed excitedly. Suddenly realising what I had said and how I said it, I took it down a notch. "I mean, well, obviously it was horrible, but..."

Looking back at the TV screen I saw that the camera had fallen over and revealed a fan blowing fake snow.

"That's not the Arctic." I said, stating the obvious.

"That's an apartment, but where?" Beckett said as she studied the screen. "Ryan, rewind it. I thought I saw something when the camera was falling."

Ryan rewound the tape and then played it.

"Stop, right there." Beckett said, she pointed to the screen. "Out the window, in the background."

I squinted at the screen and even tilted my head to get a better look of the spot that Beckett had pointed out. Ryan was doing the same. After a moment of inspection I recognised what I was seeing.

"That's classic Upper West Side architecture." I announced.

Beckett looked over to Ryan.

"Take a picture of it, send it to the precinct, see if any of the beat cops recognise it." She ordered.

"On it." Ryan replied as he fished out his cell phone and started aiming it at the TV screen.

Beckett turned away from the TV and walked over to where the class teacher was standing. His name I was later to find out was Jim Wheeler. I followed her over. Wheeler still looked very shaken from having witnessed a murder.

"Mr Wheeler, I'm Detective Kate Beckett." She said and then motioned to me. "This is Richard Castle."

"I just don't understand." Wheeler said. "Everything seemed on the up and up. He had a Yale Ph.D."

"When was the first time you met Mr Fletcher?" Beckett asked.

"A few months ago, he came into the school and made a presentation to the school board."

Wheeler picked up a glossy bound Polar Explorer folder and handed it to Beckett.

"A month long, one man trip to the North Pole." Wheeler explained. "We agree to help fund the expedition. In exchange, Fletcher said he would give a unique educational experience for the kids, including weekly video reports from the Arctic Circle."

"How much did you raise?" I asked.

"Between our school and others in the area, around fifty thousand."

I let out a long whistle of surprise at the amount that had been raised.

"Wow." Beckett said.

"That's a lot of pemmican." I said. Both Beckett and Esposito looked at me. "It's a basic staple of the uh, polar explorer diet. High in fat and protein. Basically it's beef and grease kind of melted together into a jerky. You'd think it's disgusting, but it's surprisingly...

My voice trailed off when Beckett gave me a look. She handed over the Polar Explorer pack to me and then turned to look at Wheeler.

"I'll fill you in later." I muttered.

"When was the last time you saw Mr Fletcher?" Beckett asked.

Wheeler said that Fletcher had come by the school about two weeks ago. He had come by to pick up a stack of letters that the children had written to him. As far as Wheeler knew Fletcher was supposed to have gotten on a plane for Greenland the following day.

Ryan came over to join us.

"We got an ID on the building." He announced. "79th and Amsterdam."

"Right. Tell Lanie to meet us there." Beckett ordered.

XXX

We arrived at Fletcher's apartment. On scene already were several uniforms and the CSU people. As we entered through the front door, we all donned gloves. Beckett paused near the front door. From where we stood we could see in the middle of the living room with tent. There were several Kleig lights set up on stands surrounding the tent, to one side was a desk where there was a large box of fake snow that was being blown by a fan.

"Uniforms said the door was unlocked when they got here." Ryan reported. "Either the victim left it that way or..."

"Or the killer had a key." I interjected.

Beckett had been studying the crime scene from where she was standing.

"Alright, talk to the neighbours. See if Fletcher had any regular visitors." Beckett ordered. "But first." She held up her hand. "I'm thinking our vic might have been a squirrel."

Beckett started moving toward the tent.

Esposito nodded his head. "I'll check the bedroom." He told her.

"I'm sorry, 'a squirrel'?" I asked Beckett.

"Likes to hide his nuts for winter." she replied.

"And by 'nuts' you mean...?"

"Valuables, secrets."

"Ah." I said nodding my head.

"Anything a guy living alone wouldn't want someone to find." Beckett added.

We approached the tent.

"This reminds me of that movie _Capricorn One, _but with, like a winterland twist." I remarked. Beckett murmured an agreement in response.

Reaching the front of the tent we found Dr Lanie Parish in what looked like an uncomfortable crouch inside the tent beside the body. As per usual we found her making notes on clipboard.

"Lanie, what you got?" Beckett said as she crouched down at the entrance of the tent. I did the same.

"Victim was shot once in the face with a large calibre bullet." Lanie announced.

I took a look at the body of Steven Fletcher and saw the bloodied mess that once was his face.

"Ouch." I winced.

"Oh, I don't think he felt much with a bullet that size." Lanie said.

Beckett rose from her crouch and as I did too. She turned to look at me.

"Face shots usually indicate a deep anger in the shooter." She said. "Literally trying to erase what makes the victim a person."

"Well con men do leave a wake of angry people." I remarked.

We turned our attention to a large corkboard that was covered in index cards, post-it notes, photos and assortment of odds and ends.

"It's amazing that this is all it took to fake two weeks in the Arctic." Beckett mused aloud.

We moved away from the corkboard towards a table were a number of books sat covered under a blanket of fake snow.

"The wonders of modern technology." I said. "A lot of criminals today don't take advantage. I blame the parents."

I brushed aside some fake snow and picked up a coffee table sized book and began to flick through the pages.

"I'll give this to Fletcher, he did do his homework." I remarked.

I checked the front page of the book, something that I do with a lot of books to check the copyright and the year it was published. It's a long time habit of mine. I was surprised at what I found.

"Oh! This is a library book." I announced. I closed the book and set it down on the table. "Something tells me he wasn't planning on returning it."

Esposito and Ryan returned to the room. Esposito was carrying a cardboard shoe box.

"You were right."He told Beckett as he passed over some passports he was holding in his hand. "Look what our little squirrel was hiding."

I reached into the shoebox and took out several passports. There was a British passport with its recover and a couple of US passports.

"Something tells me our Steven Fletcher wasn't actually Steven Fletcher." I remarked as I inspected the passports.

"Multiple Ids usually indicates multiple cons." Beckett said as she returned the passports and IDs back to the shoebox, I put the ones I had been inspecting back in the box as well.

"I'd say our killer is someone Fletcher duped." Beckett theorised.

"From the height of the bullet in the tent, I'd say our shooter was anywhere between 5'3" and six feet." Lanie said as used her pen to point to the location of the bullet hole in the front of the tent.

I turned from the tent to look across to Esposito.

"I guess that rules out the first graders." I said.

"Unless one was standing on the shoulders of another one's shoulders." Ryan suggested.

"Hiding inside a trench coat, maybe." Esposito added.

I broke into a smile on seeing the image in my head. "Diabolical! I like it."

"Thank you." Esposito grinned.

Esposito and I smiled as 'we fed the birds.'

"Lanie I'm going to need a rush on the fingerprints." Beckett said, having ignored my banter with Esposito and Ryan. "We're going to need to know who our victim really was."

"Okay." Lanie replied.

Beckett then turned her attention to the boys.

"Let's bag all of this, get it back to the station." She ordered.

Esposito and Ryan nodded their heads to carry out their boss's orders but it did not stop them from grumbling about it.

XXX

Beckett was walking along the hallway inspecting a passport that was in an evidence bag, one of several passports she was holding, when I emerged from the break room. In my hands I carried two mugs of coffee. Catching up to her I passed over one of the mugs to her.

"Here you go."

"Oh, thank you." Beckett replied after accepting the coffee. We continued to head to her desk.

It had been several days since I had a copy of _Heat Wave_ delivered to her and she had not said a thing about it, except to say that she had received the copy. Now, as you would expect, I was curious to know what she thought of the book. It was, after all, based on Beckett. She did not mention it.

The day after the book had been delivered there had been no word. That was okay perhaps she had not read it yet. Two days after the book had been delivered, and again no word. I will admit that I was a little concerned. But after three days since the book had been delivered to her and still no word about from her, well, I could not keep quiet about it. I had to ask.

"So, have you read it?" I asked, as we neared Beckett's desk.

"Read what?" Beckett asked shooting me a curious look.

"The book."

"What book?"

On seeing my reaction, she understood what book I was talking about.

"Oh! Your book, _Heat Wave._"

"Well?" I asked expectantly as I sat down in my chair.

Beckett sat down behind her desk and looked apologetic.

"I haven't gotten to it yet." She said.

I could not believe what I had heard.

"What do you mean you haven't gotten to it yet?" I said. After the way she had reacted because a report from _Cosmo_ had read the book before her and I promised to send her a copy. She had not even read it yet.

"I'm sorry. I've just been busy with work, I haven't had time."

"You were all over me to get a copy of that book." I reminded her. "Do you have any idea how many hoops I had to jump through, just so my editor wouldn't send an armed guard to watch over you while you read it? The least you could do is to..."

My voice trailed off on seeing the look on her face. She was trying to keep a straight face. I started to chuckle.

"Oh, oh I see what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Oh yes you are." I shot back. "You're trying to push my buttons, but it's not going to work."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Beckett turned to look at me and grinned. "Because it seems to be working just great."

I made a face at her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to input these ID's into ViCAP to see if any of Fletcher's other identities have been flagged." Beckett said as she started typing.

Esposito and Ryan returned from Fletcher's apartment. Esposito was loaded down with several large clear plastic boxes while Ryan was not carrying anything. Something which I found odd.

"Where do you want this stuff from Fletcher's?" Esposito asked.

"Right here." Beckett said pointing to the end of her desk.

"How come you have to carry everything?" I asked Esposito.

"Ryan hurt his back." Esposito explained.

I looked over to Ryan who was standing one step behind his partner. He gave me a wink and scrunched up his face in pain and let out a low groan.

"We checked with all of Fletcher's neighbours." Ryan said with a pained look.

He picked up one the Arctic Explorer packs and then eased himself down in a chair, letting out a low grown as he did so. He reclined in the chair gingerly.

"None of them could remember seeing anyone but Fletcher coming and going from the apartment." He added.

I struggled to keep a straight face at Ryan's performance. Glancing across to Beckett I saw that she had an amused look on her face as well. What I found even funnier was that Ryan's partner was oblivious.

"And we called Yale." Esposito reported. "Turns out Steven Fletcher does have a Ph.D in Wildlife Biology. Only..."

"Only their Steven Fletcher is a seven foot tall albino?" I suggested hopefully.

"No, a 300 pound Hawaiian, but close." Esposito said.

"You know what I don't get?" Ryan said from the comfort of his reclined position. "Why go to so much trouble to create such an elaborate scam?" Ryan flipped through the pages of the Arctic Explorer pack. "Fletcher must have spent weeks going through all the prep work."

"I can give you $50,000 reasons why." Beckett told him.

"Yeah, but for con men it's not just about the money." I mused aloud. It did not escape my attention as I was speaking Beckett had propped her chin in her hand and smiled as she looked at me. "I mean, for them, it's about the game. The thrill they get from pulling a con, it's like a drug high."

"The con man was on drugs?" Captain Montgomery asked, sounding a little surprised as he reached Beckett's desk.

Beckett sat up and looked up at the captain.

"No, sir. Castle is just giving us psychological insight based on his extensive experience as a fraud." Beckett said with an amused grin.

"Meow." I whispered and made a claw at her. Beckett smiled even more.

"Well, I just fielded several calls from some very embarrassed private schools, and they want this solved quickly and quietly." Captain Montgomery informed us.

"Unfortunately, it looks like our con man was running a whole slew of cons." Beckett sighed. "Unravelling all of them and finding the killer is going to take some time."

Captain Montgomery frowned at that report. This was not the news he had been hoping to hear from his best detective.

ID search on Beckett's computer had finished scanning and announced that it had found something with a short sharp electronic beep.

"Or maybe not." I said hopefully as I rose from my chair and came around the desk to look at the computer screen.

"One of Fletcher's alias conned a woman named Patty Schultz out of her life savings about a year ago." Beckett reported.

"Sounds like a motive for murder to me." Captain Montgomery grunted.

"Apparently, Ms Schultz has spent several stints in Greystone Park Psychiatric Hospital." I said reading from the file that the computer had brought up on the screen. "And none of them voluntary."

I straightened up and looked at Esposito as I brought my arms together. Esposito gave me a confused look.

"Straitjacket." I said in a low voice.

Understanding flooded across Esposito's face. He nodded his head and allowed a grin to appear on his face. The grin did not last long. It vanished the moment Beckett ordered him and Ryan to go and pick her up.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts on this effort would be appreciated. Drop me a line to let me know.**_

_**Con **_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Case of Fool Me Once

Part 2

Beckett opened the door to the interrogation room and strolled in. I followed and closed the door behind me. We took our seats at the table. Our suspect Patty Schultz seemed to jump the moment the door had opened.

"Mrs Schultz, I'm Detective Beckett."

"Is this about Sanchez?" Patty asked. "Because, you know, I only hit him because he was drilling holes in the wall to watch me exercise."

Patty Schultz was a woman aged somewhere between late forties to early fifties with mousey blonde hair and rapidly approaching the point of frumpiness. There might have been a time when she might have been a looker but her face now told a tale of a hard life spent with mental illness.

"This isn't about Sanchez." Beckett said. She pulled out a photo from her portfolio and placed it in front of Patty. "This is about him. Steven Fletcher, also known as Steven Miles."

Patty looked at the photo of Steven Fletcher and then looked up.

"Are you arresting me?"

"Why would we arrest you?" Beckett asked, suddenly curious.

"Because I killed him." Patty stated.

I was taken aback by Patty's sudden confession. Beckett too was a little surprised. Well it's not all that often you get someone to confess within the first few seconds of an interview.

"Uh, Mrs Schultz, you're just confessed to a crime." Beckett said slowly. "I'm going to read you your..."

"In my mind." Patty interjected.

"Did you just say you killed him in your mind?" I asked carefully.

"I meditate, an hour everyday. It's...doctors orders." Patty said. A small smile appeared on her face. "And all I think about are my cats and killing this son of a bitch." That last bit came out harshly as she looked down at the photo. She looked up from the photo and smiled. "And it finally work, didn't it?"

"I'm not sure." Beckett replied, the look of disbelief beginning to settle on her face. "How did you kill him in your mind?"

"With a belt sander." Patty stated.

"Where were you 9am this morning?"

"At the vet. Mr Muffins has high cholesterol."

Beckett's disbelief settled firmly on her face. It looked like she could not believe that she was sitting here in interrogation interviewing a crazy woman.

"Okay...thank you." Beckett said as she reached over and to take back the photo of Fletcher. "We're done."

I reached out and placed a restraining hand on Beckett's arm. She turned turned to look at me but, my eyes were on Patty.

"How did...how did Fletcher con you?" I asked.

Patty smiled a little before she responded.

"He said he was a cryogenist and that he would freeze me and my cats so we could be resurrected when science conquered the death barrier." Patty informed us.

I could feel Beckett rolling her eyes. I'm sure I was getting the Beckett eye roll.

"And you believed him?" I asked.

"Have you ever been duped?" Patty said.

"I've been married twice." I shot back. Maybe a little too quickly. Beckett rolled her eyes again.

"You think I got suckered because I'm crazy." Patty said a little heatedly. "Well, you're wrong. I have paranoid personality disorder, which makes me the most suspicious person you've ever met."

Patty paused as she looked from me to the disbelieving Beckett and back to me.

"Steven just made me feel safe for the first time in years." she said. "And then he vanished with $60,000 of my money."

Patty looked down at the photograph of Steven Flecther dressed in his Arctic gear and smiled.

"That man could sell sand to a camel." She added.

"Thank you for coming." Beckett announced and got to her feet.

Beckett and I had reached the door before Patty spoke up again.

"Can I see his body?" She asked.

Beckett stood in the open doorway and looked dumbfounded. She glanced at me, almost as if she was looking to me to offer a suggestion as to how she should respond. I had nothing. Beckett then turned to look at Patty.

"Uh...no." She said tersely.

I gave Patty a small smile and nod before I followed Beckett out of the interrogation room.

"You know, I can't help but be a little impressed with our boy Fletcher." I remarked as we walked through the hallway back to the bullpen.

"Please tell me you're kidding?" Beckett shot back.

"Not on a personal level." I replied quickly. "Just more a professional one. I mean, one storyteller to another. The guy's a master."

I was impressed with Fletcher. A part of being a con man is being a storyteller. While we storytellers weave a story to entertain, con men and women weave a story in order to relieve the mark of their money.

"He's a leech!" Becket declared loudly. "He preys on innocent victims and ruins their lives."

Beckett had a very good point. One I could not argue with.

Ryan and Esposito met us in the middle of the bullpen.

"Looks like our leech has jumped up to the major leagues." Esposito announced.

"What do you mean?" Beckett asked.

"One of Fletcher's identities was recently engaged to be married." Ryan said. He handed to Beckett a copy of the wedding announcement.

I glanced over to the announcement that Beckett held in her hands and saw a standard nuptial announcement shot of the happy couple all smiles.

"To Elise Finnegan." Esposito said.

"Wait, Finnegan." I said racking my brain. "Where do I know that name?"

The name Finnegan was very familiar name to me but I could not exactly place it.

"Her family owns half of Park Avenue South." Esposito helpfully explained.

"Our lovely-bride-to be is worth a cool hundred million bucks." Ryan added.

Beckett let out a whistle of surprise. I broke into a smile as I looked at Beckett.

"Ooh, now I'm really impressed." I declared.

XXX

The Finnegan penthouse residence was located, as you can imagine, on Park Avenue South. It was located in a building with a neo classical columned façade. The entire place screamed of money so much so that I was deafened by it the moment Beckett and I were shown in.

We met the Finnegans in their living room. Elise Finnegan was aged in her mid to late twenties, of average height with red hair and pale blue eyes. Gerry, her father was in his mid sixties with a rather well lived in looking face. Gayle, Elise's mother was a woman of average height, aged in her late fifties with a pleasant countenance. The last member of the group to meet us was Sue Vaughan, Elise's friend. Sue was a good six inches taller than Elise, with dark brown hair and I pegged her to be in her early thirties.

Beckett broke the news of Fletcher's death and that he was con artist. This news was met with shock from the senior Finnegans as well as Sue but there was shocked disbelief from Elise.

"He wasn't a con man." Elise said tearfully.

"I'm afraid he was, Elise." Beckett said gently. "We've already uncovered two other scams and I'm certain that we will find more."

"No. No, I don't believe you!" Elise shouted and then stormed out of the room.

"Elise." Sue called after her friend but Elise kept walking from the room.

"It's okay, Sue." Gayle Finnegan told the other woman.

"They were getting married next week." Gerry Finnegan said looking at Beckett and me. "Elise was so excited."

I nodded my head in understanding. "How long did she know Fletcher?"

"Six months." Sue supplied.

"That's quite the whirlwind romance." Beckett remarked.

"It was love at first sight." Sue said, with a sad smile. "For both of them."

"So there were no clues that he was setting her up?" Beckett said. "Stories that didn't add up or bills he couldn't pay?"

"He insisted on paying for the wedding, even though the cost was substantial." Gerry informed us, looking a little surprised still that Fletcher had wanted to pay for the wedding. "He seemed to live to make her happy."

"That's because making her happy was vital to his con." Beckett pointed out.

"You're wrong." Elise called.

We all looked over where she was standing. She had returned to the room silently. She slowly approached. The tears had stopped but her eyes were red rimmed but there was an anger there as well.

"I have been rich my whole life, Detective." Elise said. "So, if there's one thing I've learned, it's how to spot a man who's only interested in me for my money. Steven wasn't like that. He loves me for me."

Beckett accepted Elise's declaration without comment and asked a few more questions. Those questions did not reveal anything much so she wound up the interview, thanking the Finnegans for their time.

It was a silent Beckett that I rode the elevator down to the lobby with. Her forehead was creased in a little frown and I could tell that she was thinking. She was still silent as we walked through the lobby and out onto the street. As we started walking down the street to where we had parked the car, Beckett spoke.

"I can't believe how naïve she's being." Beckett said. "Even with overwhelming evidence that her fiancé was a con man, she believes he loved her."

"People see what they want to see." I suggested. "It's what con artists prey on."

"It's really a kind of psychopathy. To be so cold that you can look someone in the eye, tell them that you love them, and then rob them blind without the slightest remorse."

I nodded my head in understanding.

"Whoa, I just flashed back to eighth grade." I announced loudly. "Sherry Ort. Broke my heart, stole my lunch money."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. He phone started ringing and she answered it.

"Then she laughed about it with her friends." I added.

That was a true story and an episode which left me scarred for some time, well, at least until the next pretty face caught my eye which was not all that long I seem to recall.

Beckett finished her phone call and put he phone away. She was frowning. I gathered that the news was not all that good.

"Well?" I asked.

"No match on Fletcher's prints." Beckett reported unhappily. "We still don't know his real identity."

Early evening saw Ryan, Esposito, Beckett and I sitting around Beckett's desk going through Fletcher's stuff that we had gathered from his place, looking for something that might give us lead. We had been at it since Beckett and I returned from our visit to Elise Finnegan. I sprung for the pizza that we were eating for dinner.

"What you got?" Captain Montgomery said as he walked over.

"Trying to find a clue to the con that killed Fletcher." Beckett informed him. "But it looks our guy was a criminal over achiever."

Ryan started laughing at something that he was reading.

"What?" I asked him.

"Oh, you know those Nigerian email scams?" Ryan said waving the sheet of paper in his hand.

"Fletcher didn't pull one of those?" I said expectantly.

"No, it looks like someone tried to pull one on him." Ryan said, glancing at the paper in his hand. "Fletcher conned the guy out of ten grand."

Both Captain Montgomery and I laughed at that. Beckett just shook her head.

"Man, our boy was good." Esposito chuckled.

"Damn good." I added.

"Don't be so impressed." Beckett chided. "The guy was a criminal."

I leaned back in my chair.

"I don't know." I mused aloud. "There's something about a well played con that just makes you want to tip your hat, though." A smile rose to my face. "And they have such great names. The Spanish Prisoner, Pig-in-a-poke, the Pigeon Drop."

"Oh I love a good con movie." Captain Montgomery said breaking into a big smile. "_House of Games, Catch Me If You Can._"

"_Ocean's Eleven_, baby." Esposito added.

"_Dirty Rotten Scoundrels_." Ryan said. Then he proceeded to do a half decent impression of Steve Martin doing Ruprecht. "Mother?"

"Not mother?" Esposito said scrunching up his face comically, doing his own impression of Ruprecht.

The boys laughed at their own efforts and I smiled. Glancing over I saw Beckett rolling her eyes, looking unimpressed.

"For my money," I announced. "It starts and ends with _The Sting_." I ran my finger across my nose.

Captain Montgomery chuckled and ran his finger over his nose.

I grinned up at the Captain pleased to see that I was not alone in thinking that the best con movie was _The Sting_. It's still one of my favourite movies of all time. I can still remember my startled surprise at the ending. One word, 'Wow!' I wont detail the ending of the movie just in case you have not seen it. I would not want to be responsible for spoiling it for you. Let me just say, if you haven't seen it, do so.

"How about you, Beckett." Ryan inquired. "What's your favourite?"

"I hate con movies."

"What?" Esposito, Captain Montgomery and I chorused.

"Really?" Ryan said in disbelief.

"How can you hate _The Sting_?" I said, sounding a little shocked. "It's like...what, it took, 20 Oscars?"

"At least." Ryan agreed.

"Something like that." Esposito added.

"Because the only people that get conned in a con movie are the audience members." Beckett said tersely. "You can't invest in anything because nothing is real."

"That's what makes it fun." I insisted.

I was finding it very had to believe that Beckett did not like con movies. And I definitely could not believe that she did not like _The Sting._ I mean who doesn't like _The Sting_? Who doesn't like Paul Newman and Robert Redford in one of their all too rare cinematic pairings?

"Well it wasn't fun to these kids. The ones from Wheeler's class who wrote to Fletcher." Beckett said. She passed over some of the letters to me.

"Dear Mr Fletcher, when do polar bears sleep? Dear Mr Fletcher, do penguins really wear tuxedos?" I read out aloud.

"Penguins are South Pole." Ryan pointed out.

"Hey, these are six year old kids." Captain Montgomery chided.

"And he scammed them." Beckett emphasised. "You guys still impressed with this dirt bag?"

Looking at the letters from the kids, a thought occurred to me.

"If you were just scamming these kids, why would you write them back?" I questioned.

"Because it's all part of the scam." Beckett replied.

"Yeah, I'm not sure." I said. "I mean, if you were just a greedy monster, would you really bother writing back to all of them?"

"He's got a point." Captain Montgomery said, looking at Beckett.

"Yeah." Esposito added.

"Now who's the sucker?" Beckett said.

The smile on Captain Montgomery's face instantly vanished. He shot a pointed look in Beckett's direction. I caught sight of Beckett's face colouring with embarrassment at the inopportune choice of words and to whom they were directed.

"Sir." She amended hurriedly.

Captain Montgomery regarded Beckett a moment before he spoke.

"Sucker or no sucker, there's more to this guy than meets the eye." He said before he turned and walked away.

Ryan started shaking his head and made tsk, tsk, tsk sounds.

"Busted." Esposito sniggered.

"Shut up Espoito." Beckett said as she threw a pencil in his direction.

For a moment I was transported back to my grade school days, when I was the one who was always getting into trouble from the teacher. I found it pleasantly amusing to see the teacher's favourite draw the ire of said teacher.

I was lining up a whole arsenal of funny quips in readiness to tease Beckett when I saw her gathering up her things.

"Alright, I'm going to leave you guys to it." Beckett announced as she rose to her feet.

"Where are you going? It's early." I said, looking a little surprised.

"I've got plans." Beckett replied.

"Oh, you have a date, don't you?"

"No." Beckett said simply.

"You liar. Who's the unlucky guy?" I asked.

"Ha ha. Yeah, right." Beckett volleyed back. She started walking away. "See you guys in the morning."

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Esposito called out.

"Yeah, see you." Ryan said.

I watched Beckett as she walked down the hallway in the direction of the elevator. Once out of sight I turned to look at the boys.

"Okay, so who is it?" I asked them eagerly.

"I don't know." Esposito shrugged.

"Got me." Ryan also shrugged.

"So, she hasn't mentioned anyone?" I said.

"In case you haven't noticed, Beckett isn't what you'd call a 'sharer'." Ryan informed me.

In fact I had noticed that about Beckett almost from the first days I started following her but it made me all the more curious about her. All the more eager to find out about her.

"Why do you care anyway, Castle." Esposito challenged. "Do you have some unresolved feelings?"

"For Beckett?" I said, putting on a look of surprise. "The woman hates con movies."

What ever feelings I might have had at the time for Detective Beckett I was not about to share them with the boys. They did not need to know and I did not need their juvenile taunting. Also I did not need additional threats to shoot me from Beckett once she learned from the boys of my feelings.

I hung around for another half an hour with the boys going through the documents and finishing off the pizza before I too called it a night. I left with a barrage of questions from Esposito and Ryan wanting to know if I had some hot date lined up with some hot looking model. I found it little surprising that they did not believe me when I had told them that there was no hot date with some hot looking model lined up but I was going straight home.

Thoughts of Beckett and who her mystery date was were quickly put aside on my return home. I was greeted by the sounds of a violin wafting down from Alexis' room. I moved across to stand underneath the stairs straining to hear what was going upstairs.

"I thought she said her lesson was tomorrow?" I said to Mother who was sitting at the counter in the kitchen. She had a script open in front of her and was going through it.

"Oh, Dylan had a cancellation." Mother explained. "Alexis begged him to let her take the slot. What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

The violin music suddenly stopped. I cocked my ear and strained to hear. There were indistinct voices, one Alexis' and other Dylan's but what they were saying I could not tell and that had me ratcheting up my concern levels.

"Why did it get so quiet?"

"Maybe he's teaching her something." Mother suggested.

"Maybe he's filling her head with lies?" I countered.

"What are you talking about?"

The lack of violin music had gone on too long for my liking and I decided to take action.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going up." I announced and moved to the stairs and start going up.

I had reached the first landing when Alexis and Dylan made an appearance and started coming down the stairs. I quickly moved over to the large picture on the wall and started moving it as if I was just adjusting it, to straighten it and trying desperately not to look guilty.

"So when I start the piece, I should be bow up?" She said.

"Uh, yeah, I would." Dylan replied.

"Okay."

I turned from the picture and put on a smile of greeting.

"Hey, you guys. I had no idea you were even here." I said in a cheerful tone.

"Well, she's a very talented girl and a real hard worker." Dylan said with a smile. He turned to look at Alexis. "So, practice your Sautille and we'll take another stab at Brams next week."

"Okay, great." Alexis said, smiling.

"Alright." Dylan nodded. He then turned to me. "Have a good night."

"You too." I replied.

Both Alexis and I saw Dylan to the door and then we both walked over and joined Mother in the kitchen.

"I don't trust him." I declared.

"What? Why?" Alexis said with some surprise.

"What do we really know about this guy?" I said.

"I know that he's an amazing violinist and a really great teacher." Alexis retorted.

"Olga was a good teacher."

"Olga kept a tissue up her sleeve and smelled like hard candy." Alexis fixed me with a look. "What's this about Dad?"

"I just don't think that you realise that what you see is not always what you get."

I will admit that Steven Fletcher's scams had got me to thinking and it might have influenced the way I was acting right at this moment. That was one reason but the main reason was that I was not all that keen to have my teenage daughter being taught by the male model violin prodigy.

"I mean, how do you know that Dylan really goes to Julliard? Did you call the school?" I asked.

"No..."

"Check his transcripts?"

"No! But, Dad I..."

"Okay, I don't think we should take any more lessons from this guy until he's been properly vetted." I declared with all the parental authority I could muster. "I want a credit check, school reports, maybe even a polygraph."

"Okay, you're officially out of control." Alexis declared, trying to rein in her anger.

"No! I'm not." I said. I looked over to Mother. "And back me up here."

"You want her violin teacher to take a lie detector test? You're off the reservation, kiddo." Mother said derisively as she reached for her glass of wine.

"Okay, you know what? You're cut off." I announced, taking away the glass from out of her hand and placing it on the counter.

"Dad!"

"No. You know what? I am the grown up here."

"Oh, this is scary." Mother interjected.

"And I say no more lessons from this guy until we've got him checked out." I declared.

Alexis glared at me angrily.

"What?" I said.

"I finally find a teacher that I connect with. Who's excited about music as I am. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm not. I'm just..."

I did not get the chance to finish my explanation. Alexis shot me another glare and then turned on her heels and stormed off.

"Hey!" I called out but Alexis ignored me. I turned to look at Mother for help. "What's going on with her?"

"Besides your unreasonableness? Hormones. What's your excuse?" Mother shot back.

I did not think I had done anything wrong, in fact I was firmly of the opinion that I did not do anything wrong. I was exercising some parental authority. I was doing this because I was being a good parent, looking out for my daughter.

All the same a short while later I went upstairs to speak to Alexis. Alexis, however, was still mad at me. She even refused to speak to me over what had transpired down in the kitchen. It had been a long time since my daughter refused to speak to me over something I had done. I tried several times to no avail. Her door remained locked and she was not even responding through the door, I was officially persona non grata.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts? Drop me a line to let me know what you thought about this chapter.**_

_**Con **_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The Case of Fool Me Once

Part 3

I got into the precinct early. I had a rather sleepless night. The fight I had with Alexis weighed heavily on my mind. Some time between the hours of three and four in the morning I came to the realisation that I might have gone a little over the top. That realisation led me off on a tangent towards the case we were working. I flew out of the loft even before Alexis was up. I figured that she was still angry at me so any attempt on my part to apologise would be ignored, not that I felt I had been in the wrong, mind you but for the sake of family harmony. Perhaps a little space between us would cool tempers.

On arriving in the bullpen I found Beckett's desk empty. Esposito responded to my question that

Beckett was upstairs in the gym. I told the boys the thought that had occurred to me and they were more than happy to be sent on an errand to check it out. I wanted to go up to the gym myself to get Beckett but I figured that she would not be happy at me interrupting her workout session. Having one female angry at me was bad enough so I did not want to tempt fate and have to deal with another angry female, especially one who toted a gun. So I got one of the female uniforms who passing through the bullpen to go upstairs to call Beckett down.

I know, it was not really brave of me but like I said I was not keen on tempting fate. I picked up the Fletcher file from off Beckett's desk and slowly perused it while I waited.

It was about five or so minutes later when I heard someone coming down the stairs. From out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Beckett coming down the stairs. My mouth fell open at the sight of her. She was wearing rather tight fitting sweat pants and a dark blue tank top, that just happened to be also tight fitting. A towel was draped around her neck. She looked hot and sweaty, and really hot! I quickly closed my mouth and tried to focus my gaze on the file in my hand. While at the same time trying to rein in my imagination that threatened to bolt out of the stable.

"Okay, Castle." Beckett called out as she approached. "What was so important that you had to cut my sparring session short?"

"Just that I cracked this case wide open." I declared with a triumphant smirk on my face. Beckett was standing right in front of me looking all sexy and hot.

"You know, the thought of you fighting in a ring with another woman...strangely arousing." I remarked, with a little more honesty that I had intended.

"Who says I was sparring with a woman?" Beckett challenged.

"Oh, your mystery date." I said nodding my head and smirking.

"Oh, do I detect some jealousy?" Beckett said.

"Me jealous? Ha!" I scoffed with some exaggeration. "Double ha!"

Beckett leaned close right into my personal space. There was an amusement dancing in those hazel eyes of hers as her lips were curved in a knowing smile. There was an almost predatory look about her, something which I found very arousing to tell you the truth.

"What if I told you that my date was with your book?" She said.

My eye brows shot up in surprise.

"Really?" I muttered.

"No!"

I grimaced. For a moment my hopes had been lifted that she had finally read my book only to have those hopes dashed by a single word.

"God, you're easy." Beckett chuckled as she pulled back and moved around her desk.

I must digress a moment from the telling of this story because I recently discovered that I had been lied to. When reviewing the first draft of this case file, my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life confessed that her mystery date that night had indeed been with my book. After having left the boys and I at the precinct to go over Fletcher's things, she had gone straight home. She poured herself a large glass of wine, ran herself a nice hot bath, lit a number of candles to provide the appropriate mood, then settled herself in the bath with my book. I have since been privileged to witness this little ritual and let me tell you, it's jaw dropping sexy. Sometimes I am allowed to read to her while she luxuriates in the bath. But, I digress, back to the story.

"Give me your case breaking information so I can get a cup of coffee." Beckett demanded as she popped a couple of M&Ms from the bowl she kept on her desk.

"Well, I went a little Daddy Dearest on Alexis." I announced. That earned me a single half raised eyebrow from Beckett. "And it got me to thinking, if I could go this crazy over a violin teacher, how crazy would I go if my daughter was about to marry a scam artist? Crazy enough to kill, maybe?"

Beckett looked thoughtful as she weighed what I had suggested.

"That is..."

"Inspired?" I interjected.

"No."

"Brilliant?"

"Mm-mmm."

"Genius?"

"Uh-uh."

"What?"

"Thin." Beckett declared.

"Oh." I replied, trying not to look too deflated.

"We don't have the slightest indication that Elise's father knew that Fletcher was a con artist." She pointed out.

"Maybe not." Ryan announced.

Ryan and Esposito walked over to where Beckett and I were standing. Both men had grins on their faces.

"Castle here suggested that we check gun registration records for Gerry Finnegan." Ryan said.

"And guess who happens to own the same calibre handgun as our murder weapon?" Esposito added.

"Who?" Beckett asked.

"Gerry Finnegan."

"Shut the front door!" Beckett exclaimed.

"No time for dirty talk." I told her. "Go get changed."

There was Potty Mouth Beckett again.

Beckett headed for the stairs to go back up to the gym. I walked with her to the stairs, graciously offering my unrivalled skills as a back washer. My offer was greeted with a roll of her eyes. I even promised that I would even keep my eyes closed. My offer was laughingly declined, much to my great disappointment.

Gerry Finnegan met us at the front door of his penthouse apartment and escorted us into the lobby of the apartment. He was alone in the apartment this morning he informed us. Beckett said that we had come to speak to him. She asked if he owned a gun. Gerry confirmed that he did. She asked to see the weapon. Gerry was more than happy to show it to us. He excused himself a moment and disappeared into his office. A few minutes later Gerry returned with a large wooden box which he placed on a table.

The box was made of oak with brass fittings. He opened the box to reveal a large gun, a Colt .45 automatic I think, nesting in blue velvet lining. The gun was gold plated as well. Beckett pulled on a pair of gloves and then picked up the gun and inspected it.

"I keep it locked in the safe." Gerry explained. "I haven't fired it in years."

"Did anyone else have the combination?" Beckett asked.

"No one."

Beckett ejected the magazine and inspected it and found the clip was full. She then opened the breach and took a sniff. She looked across to me and shook her head.

"Hasn't been fired recently, or cleaned." she announced. "I'd like to take it the lab, if you don't mind."

"Certainly." Gerry agreed.

While Beckett was returning the gun back in its oak box, I thought I might as well road test the theory that had come to me in the early hours of the morning.

"Mr Finnegan, one father to another." I started off. "I just can't believe that you never had the urge to check out your future son-in-law."

My Daddy Dearest episode aside, when the day came when Alexis presented to me a future son-in-law you can bet your bottom dollar I would not be just checking his school reports, transcripts and credit checks. There would be a full blown vetting exercise conducted that would include polygraph tests as well as police checks. I have contacts in the NYPD who would help me with that. A little over the top? It's Alexis I'm talking about. As her father it would be the least I would do. Anyway, I digress.

"I mean, you never thought for a moment that maybe Fletcher wasn't what he was making himself out to be?" I said.

"I didn't think. I knew." Gerry replied.

Both Beckett and I were surprised with Gerry's response and we did not hide it either.

Gerry Finnegan told us that two weeks ago he had hired a private investigator to look into Fletcher. Gerry claimed that he was not suspicious but at the time he felt that it would be better to look into him just to be safe rather than sorry. When the private investigator called Gerry to tell him what he had found on Fletcher, Gerry was first shocked and then angry at the news he was told.

Gerry paused in his story and motioned us into the living room. We followed him and watched as he walked over to a side table where he picked up a glass which had some kind of pinkish red concoction. I didn't think it was alcohol because it was still morning but then again it could have been.

Gerry resumed his story. He told us that he confronted Fletcher with the information the private investigator had uncovered, he also told Fletcher that he was going to expose him and call the wedding off. Fletcher begged him not to do that, telling him that he was head over heels in love with Elise. That he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Gerry told him that he was not buying that. Fletcher promised Gerry that he was done with cons. That the only reason he was still pretending to be a polar explorer was for the kids, that he did not want to let them down.

As Gerry was giving us this story I had glanced across to Beckett and I saw that she was not buying the story.

"He was a professional liar, Mr Finnegan." Beckett said.

"Yes, I know that. But what ultimately convinced me was the pre-nup." Gerry informed us.

Once again both Beckett and I were surprised.

"He said I could draw up any document, cut him out of our family fortune entirely if I wanted, and he would sign it." Gerry added as he put down the glass in his hand and walked over to where Beckett and I were standing. "After a lifetime of greed, he said he had finally found something more important than money, love."

"And you believed him?" I asked.

"Yes, I did. So I never said a word about it to anybody." Gerry said. "And when you showed up yesterday, I...I just couldn't tell Elise."

"The private investigator you hired, did he take any photographs?" Beckett said.

"Yes. He followed Steven for a week. He offered me the photos, but I said I didn't want them in the house where Elise might see them."

I caught sight of a little frown on Beckett's face. It was one of her cute tells that told me that she was thinking about something.

"What are you thinking?" I asked her.

Beckett turned to look at me.

"That Fletcher's killer might be in one of those photographs." she announced.

Before leaving the apartment Beckett asked Gerry if he could call the private investigator he had hired and have him come into the precinct and to bring the photographs he had taken with him.

XXX

Beckett and I were walking through the hallway making our way towards the interview lounge where the private investigator was waiting for us.

"You think it's possible that Fletcher was telling Gerry the truth?" I asked.

I had been mulling over that for a little while ever since we had left the Finnegan apartment. That perhaps Fletcher might have changed his ways. Gerry Finnegan seemed to think so and Gerry did not get to where he was because he was easily duped. Sure the family fortune certainly helped.

"That he's suddenly a con man with a heart of gold?" Beckett questioned. "No. That's just another con."

Whoa, whoa. You don't think people can change?" I said.

Beckett stopped walking and turned to look at me. There was a hard look on her face.

"No." She said. "I've seen too many repeat offenders to believe for one second that a guy who promises never to beat his wife again actually won't."

I was rather taken aback by Beckett's response. I certainly had not been expecting it.

"That's a pretty bleak atttitude."

Beckett resumed walking and I followed.

"Not bleak. Realistic."

I could only imagine what experiences Beckett had to make her have that kind of attitude. I suppose being a homicide cop she would get to see the some of the worst of humanity on display. She had not always been a homicide cop, she had been a uniform early in her career. The beat cops are the front line troops who do see the worst things you can imagine on a daily basis. The experiences out there on the street would without doubt colour one's attitudes. I made a mental to ask her one of these days.

Waiting for us in the interview lounge was the private investigator. His name was Kurt Lopez. He was a guy in his mid thirties who wore an off the rack business suit found at one of the more less expensive clothing stores. He was just below average height and from the looks of things he might have been in a good pasture if his bulk was anything to go by.

Lopez pulled out the photos he had taken of Steven Fletcher from the brief case he had brought with him. He handed them over. I pulled them out of the large envelope they were in and began to go through them while Beckett questioned Lopez.

"After Mr Finnegan hired me, I followed your boy night and day." Lopez said. "It became pretty clear he was a grifter."

I looked through several photographs when the next one caught my interest.

"Hello." I announced.

"What?" Beckett said turning to me.

I passed to Beckett a photograph of Steven Fletcher and a certain grade school teacher Beckett and I had met recently. Fletcher is handing an large buff coloured envelope to this particular grade school teacher.

"Isn't that..." Beckett said.

"Jim Wheeler. First grade teacher, extraordinaire." I supplied.

"When was this taken?" Beckett showed Lopez the photograph.

Lopez took a look at the photograph.

"Ten days ago." He informed us.

"When Fletcher was supposed to have been in the Arctic." Beckett said turning to look at me.

"Looks like Mr Wheeler was in on the scam."

XXX

The sharp tattoo of high heels on a wooden floor can be quite an intimidating sound and accompanied with a less than pleased look from the owner of said boots and you have a powerful and scary combination. Jim Wheeler was standing at the front of the classroom at a whiteboard. Thankfully the class was empty of kids. We had waited for a break period before we made our appearance.

Wheeler turned around on hearing our approach. Nervous did not even begin to describe Wheeler's reaction on seeing us. More like quaking in his shoes would be a better description. I had taken the surveillance photos from out of the envelope just before we entered the classroom with the shot of Wheeler and Fletcher together on top and when we reached Wheeler I practically shoved the photograph in his face.

"Um...okay, I'm...I'm not going to lie to you." Wheeler stammered nervously.

"Really? Because clearly, you're pretty good at it." I shot back.

I rather liked playing bad cop bad writer. It was not something Beckett and I worked out before hand it just came out that way and we both ran with it.

"Listen, I realised that Fletcher was faking it when I realised that the pictures in his promotional booklet had been photshopped." Wheeler said.

"So, you figured you'd make a few bucks rather than, I don't know, protect your students?" Beckett said angrily.

Wheeler said he knew that it sounded a little crazy but his kids were learning. Fletcher loved these kids and they loved him. So he was faking the trip technically, but Fletcher had gone out of his way to provide a dynamic, fact-filled presentation. Wheeler said he figured that if Fletcher was making money on it, why shouldn't he? Nobody was getting hurt.

Let me tell you that little argument did not wash with Beckett. She glared at the teacher.

"He was scamming little kids, and you were his accomplice." She said. "Any jury in the world would convict you of that."

"Jury?" Wheeler said, looking even more worried than he did just a few moments ago. "I didn't kill him. I was standing right here when he was murdered."

"Doesn't mean I wont prosecute you for criminal fraud." Beckett informed him. "Now, if you want to stay out of jail, you better point us towards Fletcher's killer."

"Listen, I swear, I don't know who killed him." Wheeler insisted. "Have you spoken to his partner?"

"Partner?" Beckett and I said at the same time.

"I guess that's who she was." Wheeler said with a shrug. "She was with him at the cafe when I met him. She's in the picture."

I quickly took a look at the photograph Beckett looked over my shoulder. I could not spot any female accomplice.

"Where?" I asked.

Wheeler pointed to the bottom left hand corner of the photograph but I couldn't make out it was.

"It's hard to see." I muttered.

"Do you have a magnifying glass?" Beckett asked.

"Better." Wheeler said.

Wheeler took the photograph from me and walked over to the overhead projector. He switched on the projector and then place the photograph on the machine. The image was cast onto a wall and we all stared at the image. We saw a young woman sitting at a table inside the cafe. Through the window Beckett and I recognised who that young woman was.

"That's Elise Finnegan, Fletcher's fiancé." Beckett declared.

Feeling thoroughly confused I turned to look at Beckett. "Who conning whom here?" I asked.

XXX

Beckett and I were standing in the living room of the Finnegan apartment, practically standing in the same spot we had been when we had been speaking to Gerry Finnegan. Elise was looking nervous under Beckett's gaze.

"Help me out here Elise." Beckett told her. "First you tell me that you have no idea that Fletcher was a con man. And then I find a picture of you witnessing him making a payoff during one of his scams."

"That's not what it was." Elise said.

"Then what was it?" Beckett demanded.

"I can't..."

Elise tried to move away but Beckett was not giving up that easily, she followed the young woman and I followed the Detective.

"Elise, the man that you loved is dead, I'm trying to find his killer. Help me."

"Steven wasn't a con man." Elise said.

"Elise, we..."

"He wasn't. He was in the CIA."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"This is the best case ever." I whispered excitedly turning to Beckett.

"Shut up." Beckett snapped at me. She turned to Elise. "What makes you think he was in the CIA?"

"A month after we started dating, he told me that he couldn't bear lying to me anymore." Elise told us. "He wasn't really a corporate lawyer. He was a CIA agent on a top secret case."

"And what part of this case involves conning first graders?" Beckett challenged.

"Well...that was part of his mission."

Beckett rolled her eyes at that remark. It felt a little unusual not to be on the receiving end of one of those looks for a change.

"Next you're going to tell me that Wheeler was also a secret agent." Beckett said derisively.

Elise nodded her head.

"Oh, come on." Beckett shook her head.

"Think about it." Elise said. "Wheeler works at the International School. Half the students are children of UN diplomats. Syria, China, the Middle East. Getting close to their kids allowed Steven unique access to some of our country's worst enemies."

Beckett shook her head again. "That is..."

"Pretty smart." I interjected. Beckett shot me a glare.

"Steven wasn't killed for being a con man. He was killed for his intelligence work." Elise stated.

On the elevator ride down to the ground I tried to convince Sceptical Beckett that it was a plausible possibility that Fletcher may have been a CIA agent. Using the kids at the International School was a good conduit to get to the parents. Mind you it was a rather round about way and one that would take a long time before the parents accepted you but it was possible. Sceptical Beckett would have none of it. She was set on the belief that Fletcher was a con man and not a CIA agent.

We came out of the apartment building and started down the street with me trying to convince her of the possibility of Fletcher being a CIA agent and she refusing to accept it.

"No." she said.

"I'm just saying..."

"No." She said with a firmness that brooked no argument.

"You can't deny there's a possibility..."

Beckett stopped walking and round on me.

"He's not in the CIA." Beckett insisted.

"I'll bet you a dollar." I challenged.

Beckett's forehead creased in that cute way of hers as she thought over the bet. Her forehead cleared and looked at me. "Alright. You're on."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I searched through my contacts until I found the number I was looking for. I dialled the number.

"Who are you calling?" Beckett asked, looking at me curiously.

"My guy in the CIA." I informed her.

Beckett stared at me in surprise.

"You have a guy in the CIA?"

"When are you going to learn?" I grinned at her. "I've got a guy everywhere."

I held up my hand as the ringing stopped and the call went to voicemail.

"Thai food is pleasing to the tongue." I said and then hung up.

Beckett was staring at me in disbelief.

"It's secret code." I explained as I put the phone away. "He'll call me back."

I was eager to explain to Beckett about my guy in the CIA but she was not in the mood to hear. On the ride back to the precinct I tried bringing up the topic but she would either ignore it or brush it off. However my efforts must have worn her down because she brought it up once we stepped out of the elevator and started walking towards the bullpen. That was all I need for me to start talking was her saying: 'You got a guy in the CIA?'

"I met Agent Gray when I was researching _Storm Warning_." I said a little excitedly. "Now, this guy was invaluable for the really hard core secret agent stuff."

Beckett was about to head to her desk when I reached out and grabbed her by the arm halting her. She turned to look at me.

"This guy is a machine. I've interviewed serial killers, hit men. Agent Gray..."

"Mm-mmm"

I could tell that Beckett was not really all that interested in what I was telling her and was regretting for having set me off down this road.

"He's by far the deadliest man I've ever met." I informed her, pausing a moment to make sure that there was no one too close to hear what I was saying. "He once killed a North Korean agent with a melon baller."

"It was an ice scream scoop, Castle."

Both Beckett and I were startled by the voice. We turned to find a short baulky looking man with a sour looking face, and cold blue grey eyes. He was dressed in a grey business suit. He would have been aged in his late forties or early fifties but I would not put any money on it. He kind of reminded me of an over weight elf who had missed out on riding Santa's sleigh.

"That information was supposed to remain private." Agent Grey admonished with a look I had seen on countless teachers of mine in my younger years.

"Sorry." I said contritely.

"Agent Gray." Beckett said, smiling as she held out her hand. "Not quite the way I pictured based on Castle's description." She shot me a look when she said that.

"I live in a world where nothing is what it seems, Detective." Agent Gray replied. "For good reason. Transparency gets you killed."

Beckett turned to me.

"Didn't you use that line in _Storm Warning?_"

"Yeah. I used some of your lines in _Heat Wave_, too, which you would know, if you read it." I told her.

"I read it." Agent Grey said. "I thought it was terrific. Especially that sex scene." He paused a moment and then glanced at Beckett giving her an appreciative look up and down before looking at me. "Talk about racy." I thought I detected smile on his face but I could not be sure.

"Wait." Beckett said frowning at me. "There's a sex scene in the book? Between us?"

"There's a sex scene in the book between Nikki Heat and the roguishly handsome reporter who's helping her." I informed her in an even tone of voice.

"Oh, good. So he's nothing like you." Beckett quipped.

"Funny." I retorted. Suddenly I rounded on Agent Gray. "Wait. How...how did you get a copy of the book?"

Agent Gray did not speak, he only gave me a pointed look, as if to say 'I'm CIA, I couldn't get a hold of a copy of your latest book?'

I admit I was a little impressed with that. I looked at Beckett and grinned.

"Look, can you tell us that Fletcher wasn't a spook so we can get on with the case?" Beckett said to Agent Gray.

Agent Gray looked either side of him and then leaned in closer to us. Both Beckett and I leaned a little closer to him.

"Not here." He said quietly.

He then started walking in the direction of the break room. Beckett looked at me and rolled her eyes at all this cloak and dagger stuff but she followed him and I followed her, trying not to grin too much.

Agent Gray entered the break room to find a uniformed officer fixing himself a coffee. Officer King was a tall heavy set man, a former line backer in high school and someone you did not want to mess with. Agent Gray took one look at him.

"Get out!" He said in a commanding voice.

Officer King turned around and fixed Agent Gray with a hard look. Agent Gray returned the look. Officer King's expression quickly changed and he left the break room even quicker.

Agent Gray stood in the middle of the break room. I closed the door and came to stand beside Beckett.

"Officially , I am not at liberty to confirm or deny whether anyone is an agent." Agent Gray intoned, spouting the usual line. He paused and once more he glanced either side of him before he spoke again. "Unofficially, we've never heard of you boy."

Beckett broke into a triumphant smirk as she lifted her chin. She turned her back on me and held out her hand wriggling her fingers. I scrunched up my face at having lost the bet but all the same I dug into my pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and placed it in Beckett's waiting hand.

With the bet settled Beckett and I turned to look at Agent Gray only to find empty space. He was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had just disappeared into thin air. Beckett looked at me with a startled expression on her face.

"So cool." I said.

Emerging from the break room we walked down the hallway heading for Beckett's desk.

"I can't believe Fletcher conned me." I muttered unhappily.

I was rather hoping Fletcher was indeed a CIA agent and it was disappointing to discover that he was nothing more than a con artist. It was rather deflating actually.

"We need to take another run at Elise, see if there's anything else she's holding out on us." Beckett replied.

Turning the corner I was startled to find Alexis standing in the middle of the hallway. A rather displeased looking Alexis, I might add. As much as I love meeting my daughter I had sinking feeling that this particular meeting did not bode well.

"Dad! We need to talk." Alexis announced firmly.

Before I had a chance to react Alexis stepped and grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to the nearest interrogation room.

"Sweetie..."

"Sit." Alexis barked, pointing to the table.

I took a seat at the table across from the two way mirror while Alexis dumped her purse on the table and stood over me.

"Dylan called. Did you call Juilliard and check on him?" She said, angrily.

I could not help but cringe a little bit. It was one of the things I had done this morning. In all the excitement of working the case with Beckett and finding out that Fletcher was not a CIA spy, this matter with Dylan had slipped my mind.

"Maybe." I conceded.

"I can't believe you." Alexis said exasperated. "After I told you how much taking lessons from him means to me."

"Sweetie."

No, no, quiet." Alexis retorted sharply.

I have to admit that I had not seen her this angry in a very long time. She was positively seething with anger.

"Am I a trouble maker, Dad?" She asked. "Do I get drunk, disobey authority, steal police horses..."

"That..."

"...naked? No that would be you. I seem to be the only person in this family blessed with good judgement, and yet, you don't trust me."

"I trust you." I offered up. "It's just, it's a dangerous world out there and people lie."

"You don't think I know that?" Alexis exclaimed. "I'm in high school. It's like the wild, wild West with hormones. And I think I'm doing a pretty good job navigating it."

"You are and I'm proud."

"Well, then why don't you trust me to pick the person who's going to inspire me as an artist?"

I felt my face crumble. I cast my eyes to the table. Unable to look at my darling daughter's angry but disappointed face.

"I love you Daddy, but I'm not a little girl anymore." Alexis said, most of the anger gone from her voice. "You can't protect me from everything."

Alexis picked up her purse from the table and walked out of the interrogation room without saying another word. Being berated by your daughter is not a pleasant experience at the best of times but this one had to be the very worst. Is it wrong to try and protect your child from the dangerous world that is right outside our front door? I see how bad the world can be everyday when I work with Beckett. I see how bad the world can be when I write the books I write. I see how bad the world can be every time I turn on the news or read the paper. Is it so wrong to try and protect her from that?

I know, road to Hell paved with good intentions and all that but I felt that if I didn't try and protect her that I was failing in my job as her Dad. Alexis was right, she wasn't a little girl anymore but to me she will always be that little girl and it's an image that is almost impossible to shake off.

"She's good. She took you apart like a pro."

I glanced up and found Beckett standing in the doorway.

"You saw that?" I said in a low voice.

"Mmm-mmm, through the glass." Beckett explained. "It was kind of difficult to watch."

"Even harder to experience."

"So do you need a minute, or can we get back to work?"

I gave her a look.

"I'll give you a minute." Beckett said in a low voice. She closed the door of the interrogation room as she left.

It was about ten minutes before I emerged from the interrogation room.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The Case of Fool Me Once

Part 4

Beckett and I were approaching the from door of the Finnegan's apartment.

"You're the one who has been pushing her to break the rules." Beckett lectured me. "And when she suddenly steps outside your comfort zone, you freak out."

On the drive over to the Finnegan's Beckett asked me what that episode in the interrogation room was all about. I did not really want to tell her but as I had no one else to talk to about the matter I thought, why not? I suppose I valued Beckett's take on such things. I had spoken to her once or twice about Alexis, getting a woman's perspective other than Mother's. So I told her what transpired that ended up with Alexis verbally flaying me.

I had been hoping for a little sympathy from Beckett but what I got was a disapproving roll of her hazel eyes and it got worse when I mentioned that I had rung Julliard to check up on Dylan, and Dylan finding out about it and telling Alexis. I got a very curt 'no' when I asked Beckett if she would not mind running a police check on Dylan. I got a bit of lecture from Beckett I have to admit.

"I didn't freak out, I was..." My voice trailed off as I came to the realisation that I had indeed freaked out. What Beckett had said was right. I had been pushing Alexis to break a few rules, just like I used to do when I was her age. Alexis was far too smart to be a rule breaker. And when she did something that was definitely outside of my comfort zone, I went more than a little Daddy Dearest.

We reached the door and Beckett rang the door bell. She cast me a pointed look.

"I freaked out a little, didn't I?" I conceded.

Beckett nodded her head. "Welcome to parenting a teenage daughter." she said. "As someone who used to be one, you have my sympathy." Beckett gave me a sympathetic smile.

My thoughts immediately flew towards wondering what kind of shenanigans and mischief Beckett had gotten up to when she was a teenager. I wonder what kind of story she would tell, if she was willing to tell. I was certainly eager and curious to find out. I made a mental note to follow up on that.

My thoughts however had to be reined in suddenly when the front door was answered by a startled looking Elise Finnegan. Standing beside her was an equally startled Sue Vaughn.

"Detective." Elise said.

A look of suspicion crossed Beckett's face as she looked at the young woman.

"Can we come in?" Beckett said.

"Sure."

Beckett and I exchanged looks before we entered the apartment.

"Is everything okay?" Beckett asked.

"It's fine." Elise replied.

"We did some checking, Elise." Beckett said. "Fletcher wasn't in the CIA."

"Okay...is that all?"

Elise was sounding and looking very shifty. I could see it and so did Beckett.

"I don't understand." Beckett said looking at Elise. "You fight me tooth and nail that he wasn't a con man, and now you just give in?"

"I just...I just want this whole thing behind me." Elise said hurriedly.

"There's something you're not telling us." I accused.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Elise replied with a shake of the head.

"Elise, tell them the good news." Sue interjected, smiling.

"What good news?" I demanded.

"Fletcher's alive." Sue announced.

I turned to Beckett and beamed. "Best case ever."

Elise motioned us to follow which we did. Sue fell into step behind us. Elise walked over to a table where her rather large purse was sitting. A purse that was made from real alligator skin I might add. Elise dug into the purse and pulled out her phone.

"I'm sorry I tried to fool you." Elise said. "It's just Steven left me a voice mail half an hour ago."

"And you are sure it was him?" Beckett asked.

Elise did not answer. Instead she pressed play on her phone and played the voice mail message that she had received.

"_Elise, they're after me...I'll contact you when I can...Trust no one."_

It certainly sounded like Fletcher, I thought. I turned to look at Beckett.

"Okay, I just got a chill." I told her.

Beckett frowned. She took hold of my arm and pulled me away from Elise and Sue.

"That's not possible." She whispered.

"And yet..." I whispered back.

"But if Fletcher's alive, then who is the dead guy in the morgue?"

That was a good question, one I did not have an answer to. The only person who could provide an answer to that question was Lanie Parish. That was our next stop as soon as we departed from the Finnegan apartment.

We found Lanie in her office completing a few reports on a couple of other bodies that she was handling. She was a little surprise at our arrival but put aside what she was doing when Beckett asked if we could see the body again. Lanie got up from her desk and we followed her over to the cool room.

Lanie walked up to one of the doors and opened it and then slowly pulled out the table that contained the body of Steven Fletcher. She pulled aside the sheet that covered the body. I winced visibly at the sight of the bloodied, mangled face that stared lifelessly up at us. I will admit that I did look away. Thankfully I did not feel the need to bring up my breakfast, though. Beckett was made of much sterner stuff, she did not even flinch at the sight. She took a look at the body and then looked over to Lanie.

"It's Fletcher, right?" She said, sounding a little hopeful.

Lanie looked at her friend standing on the other side of the table and shrugged her shoulders.

"Honestly, I'm not 100% sure. His prints match the ones found at the apartment." Lanie said. "But we never got a fingerprint match on his real identity, so I have nothing else to compare it to. Plus, Fletcher has seven known identities, and so far I haven't found a single one that went to a dentist, so I have no dental records to compare."

"Okay, bottom line?" Beckett said.

Lanie glanced down at the body and then looked across to Beckett.

"This body could or could not be a man whose alias is Steven Fletcher." Lanie said carefully.

"But we saw him die." Beckett said.

"Or did we?" I replied.

Beckett let out a frustrated growl.

"I hate this case." She muttered as she headed out of the room.

"I know." I said excitedly. "Isn't it great?"

We thanked Lanie for her time and headed for the car for a return to the pecinct.

In the bullpen Beckett, the boys, Captain Montgomery and I assembled around Beckett's desk looking at her computer monitor and watched a replay of Fletcher's shooting.

"_Wait, what are you...No, no. Don't! Don't!" _

Once more we saw the camera topple over and heard the gun shot. Beckett stopped the video and stood back.

"We don't actually see his murder." Beckett remarked.

"The camera's already fallen when the shot went off." Captain Montgomery pointed out.

"And the body we have doesn't have a face." I added.

Beckett's forehead knitted together as she started thinking.

"But why?" She said slowly. "Fletcher was about to marry into an obscene amount of money. And the only other scam he had going was at the school. Why jump ship and fake his death?"

"It's possible Agent Gray was lying to us about Fletcher to protect the mission." I suggested.

Agent Gray did say that transparency gets you killed. I was still willing to bet that Fletcher might have been a CIA agent and Agent Gray was protecting him. Besides, I wanted to win my money back from Beckett.

"No, he wasn't in the CIA. The paper trail for the cons is way too extensive." Beckett said authoritatively.

Luckily I did not bet with her again because as you can see I would have lost again. Not that I minded losing the money, but to lose to her again...It's a pride thing.

Esposito's phone started ringing and he reached for it.

"There's something else that we're not seeing here." Beckett said.

"Yeah, one of Fletcher's credit cards was just used to buy a plane ticket." Esposito informed us. Beckett moved to her desk and started scribbling something on a sheet of paper.

"JFK to Jakarta Indonesia." Esposito added.

"He's making a run for it." Ryan remarked.

"Why Indonesia?" I asked.

"It's a non-extradition country." Beckett informed me. Beckett turned to look at Esposito. "What time does the plane leave?"

"Five o'clock."

Beckett finished writing and tore off the sheet of paper. She started heading for the elevator.

"Alert DHS and TSA. We'll coordinate a plan of attack on the way." Beckett ordered.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Esposito called out.

Beckett and I stopped and turned back.

"We also got hits on five other identities. Credit card reservations for flights out of Newark and La Guardia. Car reservations out of New York and Philidelphia, and an Amtrak out of DC." Esposito reported.

"He's trying to confuse his trail. Spread us thin." Captain Montgomery said.

"Well, it's going to work." Beckett sighed. "We don't have resources to cover that territory."

"And these are just the I.D.s that we know about." I said looking at Beckett. "I guarantee you he's got one identity we've never heard of."

"So, he's going to get away with this murder?" Captain Montgomery questioned.

"No." Beckett said firmly.

"What do you mean 'no'." I replied, not quite believing what she said. "By the time we figure out his real escape route, they'll be on a beach somewhere laughing at us."

"We don't need to figure out his escape route." Beckett declared.

There was a determined look on her face, one of confidence and excitement, like she had just solved the puzzle long before anyone else had. I found it rather arousing, but I wisely chose to keep that thought to myself. She was on a roll and inappropriate remarks from me would not have been welcome.

"All roads lead to Elise." Beckett said as she looked at Captain Montgomery. "Why would he risk everything by calling Elise? Sir, I believe he really does love her and he was planning on running away with her. If we get to Elise, we'll find Fletcher."

Captain Montgomery weighed what Beckett had just said. A moment later he gave a one word order.

"Go."

Beckett turned and raced to the elevator and I was right beside her.

XXX

The door at the Finnegan apartment was not answered by Elise or Sue as Beckett and I expected. It was answered by Elise's mother Gayle.

"You just missed her." Gayle informed us. "She left about ten minutes ago after she got another call."

"From Fletcher?" Beckett asked.

"She wouldn't say. She just ran out the door." Gayle said. She then motioned in the direction of where the telephone was located. "But I think she might have written something down by the phone."

We entered the apartment and Beckett headed for the telephone. I followed.

"What's going on?" Gayle asked.

Beckett had picked up the pencil beside the writing pad.

"Try the old pencil trick where you rub it." I offered helpfully.

"I know." Beckett said, glancing at me.

Beckett rubbed the pencil over the pad but after a few seconds the pencil revealed nothing.

"Damn it." Beckett muttered I frustration. "I'm going to call in an APB on Elise, see if we can get lucky at one of the airports."

I nodded my head in agreement. Beckett towards the table where an open box sat on it. Something had caught her eye and she moved over to it. She reached into the box and pulled out a brochure.

There was something very familiar with this brochure.

"Mrs Finnegan, what's this?" Beckett asked, holding up the brochure so Gayle could see it.

"Oh, well, that's their wedding engagement album." Gayle explained. "Sue made it for the wedding. Every guest was going to get one."

"This looks just like..." I said.

"The Arctic brochure that Fletcher handed out." Beckett said finishing the sentence for me. She looked across to Gayle. "You said Sue made this?"

"Yes, she's a graphic artist."

"How long has Sue known Elise?" I asked Gayle.

"Oh, I don't know, a year, maybe."

"Sue is Fletcher's partner." Beckett declared.

"It's the Undercover Lover con." I added. "Sue is the scout. She gets close to Elise first, learns everything there is to know, paving the way for Fletcher."

"Who comes in with the playbook of all of Elise's hopes and dreams and voilà! I love at first sight." Beckett added rapidly.

As you can see Beckett and I were building theory on the run. Let me tell you it was pretty exciting. Especially when you're building theory with someone who is just as sharp and can hold her own. My excitement level received a little bump when I gave the matter a bit more thought. The smile on my face faltered.

"No. Something doesn't quite track." I said. "Why would they fake Fletcher's death in such a public way? They had to know the police were going to get involved, exposing their con to a lot of dangerous scrutiny."

"Unless Fletcher is really dead." Beckett countered. "If her dad is right and Fletcher really fell in love with Elise..."

"And was going to give up his con man ways..."

"Then Sue stood to lose a fortune by not finishing the con. And if Fletcher married Elise, then Sue had no chance of pulling off the con on her own."

"So, Sue takes matters into her own hands. She kills Fletcher, shooting him in the face, making sure positive ID is impossible." I added.

"Bingo!" Beckett volleyed back.

"But what about the phone call from Steven?" Gayle Finnegan interjected.

I frowned at the question and Beckett also frowned and we turned to look at Gayle.

"Well, she must have faked it." I suggested.

"Why?" Gayle asked.

"Because..." I said my voice trailing off.

Suddenly it came to us.

"The con is still on!" Beckett and I said to each other.

I turned and made a dash for the door. While Beckett turned to look at Gayle.

"If Elise needed money, where would she go?"

"National Bank and Trust on 84th and Lexington." Gayle Finnegan reported.

"Thank you Mrs Finnegan." Becket said as she turned and marched out.

I came flying back and handed over the engagement brochure to Gayle.

"Save these, they're evidence." I told her before I turned once more and raced after Beckett.

XXX

Elise had a ten minute head start on us when we had arrived at the apartment and by the time we returned to the street and to Beckett's car it would have been twice as long. Beckett was on the phone the moment we hit the street calling in the boys telling them where to meet and what was going down and to organise back up.

Once in the car we started racing to get to the bank. It was a bit of a hair raising ride I have to tell you. I had to hold Beckett's phone to her ear while she spoke to the bank manager, informing him what was happening and what she wanted from him, while at the same time concentrating on the road ahead.

I have to tell you that Saint Michael must have been running interference for us, he certainly was looking out for us as we sped towards the bank. There were a couple of close shaves that had me letting out an unmanly squeak of surprise but there was nothing in the way of smashing past taxis or getting collected by large semi-trailers, or taking a detour through a side walk cafe scattering pedestrians in all directions, like you find in those big budget chase scenes set in New York City you see in the movies.

The unmanly squeaks aside, I had every confidence in Beckett's driving capabilities and once again she did not let me down. We arrived at the parking lot around the corner from the bank and much to my surprise we found a parking spot. The boys were in their car not all that far away and a couple of police cruisers were parked out of the way reading to roll and being given the word. I was even more surprised when speaking to Esposito on the phone he informed us that Sue Vaughn's car was parked a couple of spots away. Yeah, St Michael and the Universe were smiling down on us.

Ryan and Esposito had even managed to get a guy from Surveillance to park himself out the front of the bank. He spotted Sue Vaughn waiting in front of the building. About ten minutes Elise emerged from the bank carrying a large silver coloured metal briefcase, you know the type, the ones that hired hit men use to carry their sniper rifles in. Elise was struggling under the weight of the case as she approached where Sue was standing. She was about to hand the brief case to Sue when the bank manager emerged from the front door and called out to Elise. He walked up to her and passed over Elise's phone which she had left in the bank.

The surveillance guy heard Sue telling Elise that she just received a call from Fletcher, and he wanted Sue to drop the money off at the safe house and Elise was to go home and pack and they would meet at Grand Central at 9pm.

Elise passed over the metal briefcase. Sue started walking rapidly away from the bank. We spotted her a minute later as she headed for her car. She opened the door and got in. Beckett and I had gotten out of her car and approached Sue's car. When we reached the car we saw that Sue had opened the brief case and instead of finding one million dollars in case she was staring copies of The New York Ledge and various other broadsheet newspapers.

Beckett leaned forward and tapped her badge against Sue's window. She looked rather shocked but I'm not sure whether it was discovering that there was no money in the brief case or that Beckett and I were standing right there.

"Newspapers? I didn't think people read those anymore." I remarked.

The police cruisers rolled with their lights and sirens going and blocked any attempt Sue might have contemplated of getting away. Ryan and Esposito came rushing in.

"Out of the car you." Esposito shouted. Sue slowly got out of the car. "Let me see your hands. Turn around." He quickly cuffed her.

"You know, Detective Beckett here didn't think we could con a con artist." I said to Sue with a small smile on my face. "But I told her that you just weren't that smart. You did, after all, fall for the oldest con in the book. The Lazy Susan."

Esposito hauled over to one of the police cruisers for delivery to the 12th Precinct holding cell.

"The Lazy Susan?" Beckett questioned.

"It's either that or the Grumpy Beaver." I said with a shrug. "I always get them mixed up."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Detective!"

On looking around we saw the bank manager approaching. Beckett smiled and shook the man's hand.

"Thank you so much for your help." She said.

"Absolutely." The bank manager nodded. "It's my job to protect our clients."

Beckett smiled and ran her finger across her nose. The bank manager returned the salute in the same manner. Beckett then let out a giggle.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a second." I said.

I don't know which surprised me the most, Beckett giggling or that she had just she saluted, _The Sting_ way. I went with the latter.

"I thought you hated con movies?" I said

"Oh, Castle, you're such an easy mark, aren't you?" Beckett laughed.

Normally I am not that easily fooled, some of the best have tried and failed, miserably because I was on to them. Yet with Beckett I was seeing a pattern building, where she managed to get the better of me. Quite frankly I did not know whether to be offended or impressed. I went with the latter.

"Hey I got something." Ryan called out.

Ryan had popped the trunk of Sue's car and had been looking in there. Beckett and I walked over and joined him. I saw that there was a laptop computer in the trunk which he had opened up. Ryan tapped a couple of keys and there appeared an editing program on the screen.

"_Elise, they're after me...I'll contact you when I can...Trust no one."_

"When you see how it's done, it really takes the magic out of it." I remarked, a little sadly.

Elise Finnegan came walking up.

"Detective?" She said. "Is Steven really dead?"

"I'm afraid so." Beckett replied, nodding her head.

Tears sprung in Elise's eyes and she looked at Beckett.

"Then it was all a lie." She said tearfully.

"No Elise." Beckett said in a gentle tone. "You need to know that Steven loved you very much. He changed his ways because you made him want to be a better man."

I looked on at this exchange and could not help but smile a little. Despite what Beckett had told me about her experiences with people not changing, she was willing to recognise that Steven Fletcher had found someone who he was willing to change for.

"Thank you." Elise replied tearfully.

XXX

I was walking through the hallway on my way out when I noticed Beckett was still at her desk. I did not need to be a rocket scientist to deduce that she was doing the paperwork on the case we had just wrapped up. I made a detour to her desk.

"No hot date tonight?" I quipped as I reached her desk.

"No, just paperwork." Beckett replied, waving to the growing mountain of forms on her desk.

"One of the many reasons I'm glad I'm not actually a cop." I replied.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, have a good one." I said, and started walking off.

"Yeah, you too." Beckett called out as she returned to her work.

I actually did not leave, like I was pretending to do. In fact I hid around the corner. The reason I was hiding around the corner was because I was spying on Beckett. A little earlier I had noticed my book _Heat Wave_ sticking out of her bag. My spidey sense was telling me that Beckett was going to read the book after everyone had left, and in particular the sex scene that was in the book.

I broke into a smile when I saw Beckett stop her work and reach for her bag. She surreptitiously looked about her to see if anyone was around and finding no one she got out of her chair. Clutching her bag close to her, Beckett set off in the direction of the toilets.

I counted to ten slowly and emerged from my hiding spot and nonchalantly walked to the toilets. Thankfully for me, there was no other woman in the toilets except for Beckett, when I snuck in. Quietly as I could I made my way to the stall next to the one Beckett had occupied. I could hear her as sh pulled the book out of her bag.

I rose up and peered into Beckett's cubicle. She was sitting cross legged on the closed toilet seat with my book in her hands.

"Aha!" I announced.

Beckett was startled by my sudden and unexpected intrusion. She let out a gasp of surprise.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" She demanded in a whisper.

"I knew you were reading it."

"I...wa..." Beckett stammered.

"It's on page 105, by the way." I offered helpfully.

"Wh...what?"

I have to say I was rather amused to see a flustered Beckett, it's a very rare sight. I could not help but smile.

"That sex scene you're looking for." I told her. "And Agent Gray was right. It's steamy."

"I wasn't..."

"See you tomorrow." I said.

I left the cubicle and headed for the exit. As I reached the door, I heard a loud gasp of surprise emanate from the cubicle that Beckett was occupying. I was not sure whether she was still shocked that I had boldly walked into the ladies toilets, or she had found page 105 and had read it. Either way it still made me smile. I started whistling as I walked out of the ladies toilets. My work was done.

XXX

Walking through the front door of the loft I was greeted by what sounded like a cat being skinned alive. On closer listening, there was no avoiding it, truth be told, it was a violin being tortured to death by a horrific rendition of _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star._ I noticed that Alexis was on the couch reading a book.

"Wait, who's getting the lesson?" I asked.

"Gram." Alexis replied crisply.

Looking in the direction of my office I saw Mother standing in the middle of the office sawing away on Alexis' violin. Dylan was standing beside her with a fixed smile on his face as he nodded encouragingly as Mother hacked away.

"Very good, very good." Dylan said kindly. "That's nice."

I could not help but wonder if Dylan asked for danger money before he accepted giving lessons to Mother. I know I would have.

I came over and sat down on the couch beside Alexis. My darling daughter was still upset with me, it showed on her face.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted." I told her slowly.

Alexis' ticking off of me and my talk with Beckett had shown to me that I had indeed over reacted and the time had come to apologise to my daughter for what I had done.

"There is no one in the world I trust more than I trust you." I said. "And I'm going to try to be more respectful. Just promise me one thing?"

Alexis had been looking down at her fingers when I was speaking. Slowly she lifted her head to look at me.

"Be patient with me." I told her. "I've never had a teenage daughter before."

Alexis considered my words for a moment.

"Deal." She said.

"Thanks."

I moved closer and pulled her into a big. I can't tell you how it feels to be forgiven by your kid. We broke from the hug.

"Aren't you worried about Dylan's intentions towards Gram?" Alexis asked nodding in the direction of my office.

"I'm hoping they involve running away together, but I'm not that lucky." I replied.

The screeching started up again. Both Alexis and I cringed and shuddered.

"Speaking of running away, how about we have dinner out?" I suggested/

For the first time that day I saw my darling daughter smile. It was a most beautiful sight.

"Yes, please." She said.

"Thank you."

Alexis and I managed to beat a hasty retreat out of the loft without being seen by Mother.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The Case of When The Bough Breaks

Part 1

Most people who know me will know that normally I am not a morning person. When given the chance I much prefer to sleep in. It comes from the many years where I would stay up half the night writing not to mention, that period in my younger years where I would party most of the night.

Of course there are those mornings when I'm woken by a call from the dulcet voiced Detective Kate Beckett to inform me a body had dropped. I have no trouble getting out of bed on those particular occasions.

On this particular morning the incessant buzzing from my front door woke me from my slumbers. I was more than a little annoyed to see what time of the morning it was, seven if you must know.

I had been up for half the night reading a signed copy of Ian Fleming's _Casino Royale_ that I found recently in a second hand book shop. Last night had been the first time I had the chance to read it. I've read the book before countless times but this was a signed copy and that made it a little special.

The other half of the night had been spent dreaming. with me in the role of the roguishly handsome British Secret agent and a certain female NYPD Homicide detective playing the role of Vesper Lynd. Unlike the book, there was no death by suicide of the beautiful Vesper in my dream. No, in my dream there was a happily ever after.

To be dragged away from the happily ever after by the incessant buzzing of the front door bell did not put me in a good mood. I got out of bed wrapped a robe around me and headed for the front to see who had the temerity to be calling at this ungodly hour.

"Yes, yeah, I'm coming." I muttered loudly in response to another loud buzzing.

I opened the front door and before I could say anything, even before I had a chance to open my mouth a whirlwind dressed in a tight fitting red dress came barrelling into the loft.

"You are not going to believe this." She said in way of greeting.

The woman who had just stormed into the loft was none other than my agent, Paula Haas. Paula is a woman aged in her early thirties, of average height, attractive, with black hair which she had pulled back into a pony tail this morning. She had the attitude of a hungry barracuda and the ruthlessness of a shark. I was thankful she was on my side, I did not want to get on her bad side because without a doubt it would not be pretty. Paula had been my agent for many years and she looked after my interests with the same zeal of a lioness looking out for her cubs. She was bold and brassy and could steam roll you without batting an eyelid.

"Paula..." I muttered sleepily.

"You're so not going to believe this." Paula said excitedly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I can't believe it." Paula said, more to herself than to me.

"Believe what?"

"I can't tell you."

"I'm still asleep, aren't I?" I muttered as I made my way to the kitchen. "I'm dreaming. I'm having a dream where my book agent has shown up at my house at 7am to not tell me something."

"Okay it's not official yet, but...you my dear, are on top of their list." Paula announced. "And I can't tell you any more details than that."

I stood at the coffee machine.

"You want some coffee?" I asked. "I'd love to sit down and not discuss this further."

I poured myself a cup of coffee.

"I will tell you this." Paula said. "It's a major relaunch of a major franchise. A three book deal, and they want you."

I will admit that Paula had me slightly intrigued but that was all.

"_Heat Wave_ comes out in less than a week. The book party which you arranged, is Monday night." I pointed out. "I'm trying to launch my own character, why would I want to get involved with somebody else's?"

Paula had an amused knowing look on her face as she leaned on the kitchen counter. Her ruby lipsticked lips curved into a smile before she spoke.

"What if I told you the character in question is a certain British secret agent?"

That little piece of news pulled me up short. I was suddenly wide awake. I could not believe what Paula had just revealed. Of the numerous literary heroes I have had, there is one who has stood head and shoulders above all others. His name, Bond, James Bond. Agent 007 of Her Majesty's Secret Service. He has been and always will be my favourite. I could not believe I was being offered a three book deal to write James Bond! That is like a dream come true!

"You mean it's going to be..."

"Ssh! Don't say it!" Paula interjected. "You'll jinx it."

I walked over to the counter with my coffee. There was an excited expression on my face.

"He's the reason I became a writer." I said.

My phone chose that moment to start ringing.

"I know." Paula nodded her head.

"I mean he's the coolest spy ever."

"Right."

"He's got gadgets, he's got babes, he's got..."

"And a payday that's unbelievable." Paula added.

"And they want me for three books?" I questioned.

"Yes." Paula said firmly. "Now you want to get that? Because an unanswered phone gives me agita."

I picked up my phone and saw the caller ID. It was Beckett's smiling face. I frowned a little.

"It's Beckett, a body must have dropped." I said to myself.

I was in two minds whether to answer it or not. It did not take me long to reach a decision. I sent the call to my voice mail.

"Um, I'll call her back." I announced as I set the phone down. I looked at Paula.

"What other details can't you tell me?" I asked.

The thought of me writing about my number one literary hero had me in raptures and I wanted Paula to tell as much as she could about the deal that had landed on her desk.

XXX

For this part of the story I have to thank my beautiful, ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life.

While Paula was having my head spinning with details that she could not tell me about the deal to write for a certain British secret agent, Detective Kate Beckett pulled up at the site of the crime scene. Pulling up behind her were the boys Detectives Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito. Beckett got out of her car and was greeted by a pair of uniforms who were standing guard at the entrance of the alley.

"Morning, gentlemen." Beckett greeted the uniforms with a quick smile. It had not been all that many years ago when she was a uniform who was the first responder to a crime scene and had not forgotten what that was like.

"What have you got for us?" She asked.

One of the uniforms motioned in the direction of the end of the ally and started walking. Beckett walked beside him.

"Caucasian female, early thirties." The uniform replied. "No purse or ID found on the body."

"Where is she?"

The uniform pointed to the open manhole.

"City workers found her when they opened the manhole to check the line."

Ryan and Esposito joined Beckett as she approached the open manhole. All three of them peered into the manhole and saw the body of the woman.

"Something tells me she didn't trip." Beckett remarked. Beckett's remark was along the lines of something I would have said. Maybe I was starting to rub off on her?

After inspecting the body in situ Beckett immediately took command of the crime scene and began to issue orders to her partners and to the uniforms.

An hour later Dr Sidney Perlmutter and his people had removed the body from within the manhole, a task that was not all that easy given the location of the body but they accomplished it. They placed the body in a bag and then onto a gurney. Beckett and the boys followed Perlmutter as the gurney was pushed towards the waiting morgue-mobile.

"Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma." Perlmutter responded to Beckett's question. "She took a nasty blow to the head. We found traces of blood splatter over there on the side walk." He point haphazardly in the direction where the blood splatter had been found.

"Well, then it couldn't have been a robbery." Beckett mused. "A mugger wouldn't bother dragging her body that far just to hide it."

The body was loaded into the back of the morgue-mobile and Perlmutter climbed in after it .

"Given the amount of decomposition, I'd say she was killed about two days ago." Perlmutter added.

Beckett nodded her head.

"Any chance you can narrow that down for us?" Ryan asked.

"Any chance I can get her to the lab first?" Perlmutter snapped. He turned to look at Beckett and spoke to her a little more civilly. "I should be able to get you a tighter window, maybe down to six or seven hours.

Beckett nodded her head. "Alright, thank you."

Perlmutter closed the door of the morgue-mobile and a couple of moments later it slowly pulled out of the alley.

It was at this moment when I made my appearance. After my meeting with Paula I had jumped into the shower and got ready to head out to the crime scene. I caught a cab to the crime scene. I walked through the alley to where Beckett and the boys were standing. I noticed the morgue-mobile departing.

"Ah, good morning." Ryan called out, grinning.

"Look who decided to grace us with his presence." Esposito added.

"Did you have something more important to do, Castle?" Beckett inquired.

"I got held up at home." I replied. That was true, technically speaking. As much as I was excited about the proposed book deal and wanting to tell some one about it, Paula had sworn me to secrecy on a pain of death. Knowing Paula I was not keen to find out what 'on a pain of death' meant. I motioned towards the departing morgue-mobile.

"Was that the body?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's on its way to the morgue." Ryan informed me.

"Huh." I could not be sure but I got the feeling that Beckett was a little disappointed.

I could not help but frown a little. I had been hoping to get down here so I could take a look at the body but the traffic being what it was had dashed that hope.

"What? You wanted us to wait?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, it's too bad, too." Esposito added. "It's your kind of case, bro."

"Yeah?" My disappointment lifted a little.

"Yeah, body was found down that manhole over there, half eaten." Ryan reported.

"Eaten?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, it was covered in some green slime."

"Whoa." I breathed.

"It was creepy." Esposito said joining in. "It's as if someone or something, is down there."

"Ah, that's..." I peered down the manhole and did not find anything out of the ordinary. I suddenly realised that the boys were pulling my leg. "Okay, very funny. That's great."

I turned to Beckett for help.

"Was there a body down the manhole?" I asked her.

"Yeah." Beckett replied, straight faced.

"Okay. Thank you." I turned to the boys. "An adult.

"Yeah, you should have seen what else was down there." Beckett continued. I turned to look at Beckett. "Two metal canisters with bio hazard stickers and yellow powder inside of it."

I stared at Beckett as my eyebrows shot up in alarm. I could not believe that they had opened bio hazard canisters. Did they not know how dangerous that could be. There was no telling what kind of chemical or biological concoction had been released and possibly endangering the city. There should have Hazmat teams swarming all over this place right now.

"You opened the..." My voice trailed away when I saw Beckett's stern looking face slowly break into a smile.

I had been had again, by Beckett no less, again.

"Alright..." I said with some relief. "Will someone please tell me what's really going on here?"

"We're going to check nearby trash cans for the murder weapon." Ryan informed Beckett. She responded with a nod of her head.

"Uh, what was the murder weapon, by the way?" I asked.

"Some kind of death ray." Ryan replied as he started walking away.

"Turns your insides out." Esposito added before he turned and joined his partner.

I rounded on Beckett and fixed her with a stern look silently admonishing her for pulling my leg. She only smiled even more. That's why I don't like playing poker with her. She can be very straight faced when she wants to be and it's very difficult to spot her tells. I'm not sure but I get a distinct feeling that she rather enjoys pulling my leg when ever the opportunity arises.

With the joking over Beckett took the time to fill me in on what had been found at this crime scene.

We spent another hour down here in the alley gathering whatever information that could be found, which was not really a lot. Inspecting the scene looking for clues, speaking with the first uniforms on scene, talking with the people who actually discovered the body, canvassing the nearby buildings. This is the unglamorous side of homicide work but a necessary one. Pieces of the puzzle you might say. What we had gathered did not really give us the picture we were looking for, but it was still early days.

Beckett and I left the crime scene and headed back to the precinct. I was tasked with retrieving the murder board from where it was stored and brought it over to Beckett's desk. With that task completed I sat down in my chair and preceded to watch as Beckett began to write on the board. At this point in time there was not a lot of information to put on the board and as the day progressed we did not get much more. The boys reported that they had not found any sign of a murder weapon in their search nor did they happen to find the woman's purse.

I would have stayed and watched as Beckett re-checked the information that we already had gathered, and also watched her as she made call after call but I received a call just after lunch that had me making apologies. The call was from Paula and she wanted to meet me at her office, officially to discuss the upcoming book launch party, but unofficial she had more details about a certain British secret agent that she could not discuss with me.

I felt a little bad at having to leave Beckett in the middle of an investigation but the prospect of not discussing further details about a certain British secret agent had me excited. Come to think of it Beckett did not seem too disappointed at me having to leave.

XXX

The following day in the morning I had more meetings that required my presence. Try as I might I could not avoid them, and it was not until around eleven before I made an appearance in the precinct. My buttocks had barely made an impression in my chair before Beckett and I were heading out. Our destination was the morgue.

Beckett and I found Perlmutter in one of the autopsy suites and he was photographing the body of our Jane Doe.

"Her fingerprints came back negative. Missing Persons didn't have anything matching her description." Perlmutter reported. "Your boys didn't happen to find her purse by any chance?"

"No. No purse, no murder weapon." Beckett sighed.

Perlmutter climbed down from the step ladder he had been using to take shots of the body. He started moving over to his desk.

"We have ourselves a Jane Doe." Perlmutter declared.

I could have told him that.

"Two days and no one steps forward to say she's missing?" I said.

"Which means she probably lived alone and she didn't have a job where she needed to be." Beckett remarked. She walked over to Perlmutter's desk and I followed.

"I can tell you this much, she's an immigrant from Eastern Europe." The medical examiner said.

"Her dental work?" Beckett asked.

Perlmutter nodded his head. "She's got a couple of stainless steel crowns." He said. "We don't use them anymore in the States, but they're still common in the former Soviet Bloc."

Perlmutter picked up an evidence bag from off the desk and passed it over to Beckett.

"We found this scrunched in the bottom of her pants pocket."

"Candy wrapper." Beckett said.

"It's got some kind of writing on it."

I took the evidence bag from Beckett and inspected the candy wrapper carefully.

"The lettering has diacritical marks on it." I remarked.

Looking up I saw Perlmutter giving me a quizzical look.

"They're accent marks used to represent sounds that are alien to Latin." I explained. Looking back at the wrapper, I continued speaking. "I'm going to go with Slavic Cyrillic? No, Czech."

"And you know this how?" Perlmutter asked with some disbelief in his voice, not to mention his face.

"I almost ordered a Russian bride once." I replied. I turned to look at Beckett. "You know, a Czech mate?"

It wasn't a great joke, I would be the first to admit it but it wasn't that bad. Beckett rolled her eyes at me and grabbed the evidence bag from out of my hand and she looked at it.

"I'm going to run this down." She announced. "There can't be too many shops in the area that sell this stuff."

Beckett nodded her thanks to Perlmutter and headed for the door. I was half way to the door when I paused and turned back to look at the medical examiner.

"Hey, Perlmutter, I'm having a book launch party Monday night, you want to come?"

"Please." Perlmutter said dismissively and a wave of his hand, which I took to mean that he was not interested.

"I'll put you down as a maybe." I called out. I turned and headed out, trying to catch up to Beckett.

XXX

For the next couple of hours Beckett and I did exactly as she had mentioned in the morgue. We went to quite a few shops in the area where the body had been found. Little out of the way shops that catered to former Soviet Bloc immigrants. I don't know about Beckett but I had a great time hitting these little shops. I was like a kid in a candy shop with with unlimited money at his disposal. We came back to the precinct empty handed. Actually, Beckett returned empty handed, I on the other hand had not come away from this field trip empty handed.

I was standing over by Detective Karpowski's desk, showing her the set of Matryoshka dolls that I had bought at the last shop we had visited. I was having fun showing Karpwoski these little dolls. From time to time I would glance out of the corner of my eye over to Beckett's direction. She was standing near her desk looking over a file.

"This is going to weird you out a little bit." I told Karpowski excitedly. But check this out. I mean, it just seems like I seem to bend the space time continuum. Look, just when you think there can't be another one..."

Kaprowski was trying to look interested as I showed her these little dolls within dolls but I'm sure she was thinking of a way to escape but was only trying to be nice. That was okay, I was having too much fun showing her these little Russian dolls.

"What's he doing?" Captain Montgomery asked as he walked up to Beckett. The 'he' in question was me.

"We hit about a dozen little shops trying to find that candy wrapper, and he is insisted on buying something in every shop." Beckett informed the captain with a note of exasperation in her voice.

"In every shop?" Captain Montgomery laughed.

"No wrapper though." Beckett added.

"Well, something tells me if he decides to put the great candy wrapper hunt in his next book, he'll have a happier ending."

"Wait, sir, wait...'next book'?" Beckett stammered in surprise. "Is he writing another Nikki Heat novel? The deal was for one book. I assumed that..."

"You were off the hook?"

Beckett nodded.

"You know how the mayor feels about Castle. If the man is going to write another book about you..."

"I'm not Nikki Heat, sir."

Captain Montgomery gave her a pointed look before he spoke again.

"Yeah, well His Honour expects your cooperation either way." Captain Montgomery informed her before he turned and walked away leaving Beckett to contemplate her situation.

You might be wondering I must have super hearing to be able to overhear the conversation that took place between Captain Montgomery and Beckett. Of all the super powers that I have at my command super hearing, sad to report, is not one of them. I only caught a bit of the conversation, the rest of it was filled in by my beautiful, ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life who gave me her version of what was said not all that long ago.

I was still having fun showing the Russian dolls to Karpowski but I could see that she was getting desperate to be anywhere but right here with me but was being nice about it. Thankfully for her salvation arrived in the form of Ryan and Esposito.

"Yo. Found your candy." Ryan called out.

It was at this moment when Karpowski chose the moment to flee. She moved so fast I was surprised that she did not leave a cloud of smoke in her wake, like they do in those Looney Tunes cartoons.

"You found it?" I exclaimed. "Get out of town."

"Little grocery on 47th and 9th." Esposito said.

"Yep." Ryan nodded.

I turned to look at Beckett who was coming over to us.

"I told you we should have checked out the west end." I told Beckett.

"Owner recognised our vic's picture." Ryan said. "Said she'd come by every couple of weeks to stock up on stuff from back home."

I noticed that Ryan was holding a packet of candy that he must have picked up at the shop where they had been told about our victim. I took the packet from him and took out a sucker. I unwrapped the sucker and popped it into my mouth.

"Mmm. Kind of tastes like soap." I remarked. "I like it."

Beckett rolled her eyes at me before she turned to look at the boys.

"Did he give you a name?" She asked.

"No, but he did point us to where he thought she might live." Esposito said. "Apparently, there's a SRO not far from where we found the body that caters to Czech illegals."

"Well, let's pay it a visit, then." Beckett announced.

XXX

A short time later Beckett, the boys and I were standing in the lobby of a run down looking apartment building. There were a several plastic pot plants that were wilting under the weight of all the dust they had accumulated. Plastic chairs that looked worn and ready to collapse at any moment and a black vinyl couch in desperate need for repairs was set up against a wall was all the furniture in the lobby. The Ritz this place was not.

A spotted kid at the front desk managed long enough to look up from the magazine he was reading to take a look at the photograph that Beckett showed him before declaring that he did not recognise her. His interest sparked up a little bit more when on asking he was told that the woman in the photograph was dead. Asked by Beckett who might know the tenants in the building the kid said that the building supervisor would know, he'd been here for years. The kid added that the supervisor could be found on the fifth floor.

Beckett, the boys and I traipsed up the rickety looking stairs. I don't think any of us were willing to risk using the lift. We found the building supervisor where the kid told us he would be. He was standing in the hallway replacing a light in one of the hallway fixtures. He was a man in his late fifties with rapidly balding hair and which seemed had not seen a comb for a few days.

"Yeah, I knew her." The super confirmed. He was looking at the photograph of our victim, one that had been taken the morgue after the body had been cleaned up. "The lady in 5-C. Eliska Sokol."

The Super frowned sadly as he handed the photograph back to Beckett.

"She was a nice person. She kept to herself, but nice, yeah." he said. "Why'd anybody want to kill her...?"

"How long did she live in the building?" Beckett asked him.

"About six months."

"Never give you any trouble?" I asked.

"No. I wish all my tenants were like her." The super said with a sad smile. "She paid her rent on time in cash."

"You said 5-C?" Beckett said.

The super nodded his head. "Want to see it?"

"Yeah, please."

Beckett turned to the boys.

"Why don't you guys start knocking on doors? See if any of the other tenants can shed some light."

Ryan and Esposito nodded their heads.

"Later." Esposito said as he moved off.

We followed the super along the hallway till he reached the door to apartment 5-C. He pulled out a set of keys, selected the right key and inserted it into the lock. He turned the key and pushed open the door. Beckett and I both pulled on gloves.

"Here it is." The super announced. "Let me know when you're done."

"Thanks." I said as he left.

I slowly took in the small apartment. It looked threadbare and a little lonely from the looks of things. A bed dominated the room, there was a dresser on the wall beside the door. A kitchen alcove was off to one corner with a small fridge beside it. A small table stood beside the window. There was a bathroom too. While the place was small and threadbare, it was neat and tidy.

"From what I'm seeing, it's a pretty good bet she lived alone." Beckett remarked as she inspected some trinket sitting on the table.

"There's not even a telephone." I observed.

"Something tells me that she did not have many visitors." Beckett said.

I looked in the direction of the bed and noticed a calendar had been nailed to the wall. I walked over to take a closer look. The writing on the calendar was in Czech and most of the days had been crossed off.

"Hey." I said to get Beckett's attention. She turned and looked at the calendar I was pointing out.

"Work calendar maybe?" She suggested. "Keeping track of shifts?"

"There's nothing past last Wednesday."

Beckett moved across to stand beside the dresser. There was a long rectangular three panelled mirror above the dresser and below the mirror were some post cards that had been tacked up.

"Post cards from home." Beckett murmured.

I moved away from the calendar and joined Beckett by the dresser. Taking a look at the postcards on the well I noticed there was a gap between the third and last postcard. I touched the wall where something had been pinned and felt the dent in the wall. Something must have fallen off the wall I figured.

"Mmm." I muttered.

I lowered myself into a crouch and search behind the dresser. Well my hand did the searching. Sure enough after a few moments of feeling around my fingers brushed up against something. Using the tips of my fingers I gripped the postcard and slowly pulled it out.

I was surprised to discover that it was not a postcard but a photograph of a little boy in a playground. In the foreground of the photograph was a blonde woman. What I found startling was that the face of the woman had been scratched out.

I rose to my feet and looked at Beckett.

"If a picture is worth a thousand words," I said turning the photograph around to show Beckett. "This one says, not a fan."

Beckett inspected the photograph a little closer.

"The scratches go right through the paper." She remarked. "Whoever she is, looks like our vic hated her."

"Could be the feeling was mutual?" I suggested.

I would have returned to the precinct with Beckett and the guys but the moment we emerged from the apartment my phone started ringing. It was ex-wife number two and publisher reminding me, rather crossly, that I had forgotten an important meeting. With the book launch rapidly approaching, my presence was needed at one meeting after another, I don't know why but it was required. I was not going to argue with ex-wife number two and publisher. So made my apologies to Beckett and the boys and went in search of a cab.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The Case of When The Bough Breaks

Part 2

I arrived home to the loft early in the evening endlessly thankful I had survived another round of meetings with ex-wife number two and publisher. This one had to do with bedding down the additional invitees to the book launch. I had no problems with the list of names that she had shoved under my nose. Then we moved onto a few other items that she thought were of some importance, working out book tours and signings that sort of thing. I had enough presence of mind to tell ex-wife number two and publisher that she would have to submit the dates to Paula before final approval could be given. That of course made ex-wife number two and publisher very suspicious but I managed to allay her suspicions by saying that some of the dates might clash. Ex-wife number two and publisher seemed to accept that explanation.

I found my darling daughter doing her homework at the dining table and Mother was at the kitchen counter reading a script.

"Hey." I said to my daughter.

"Hey." Alexis said looking up from her homework.

Pulling out the packet of lollipops that I had been given by Ryan I offered one to Alexis.

"Want a lollipop?" I asked Alexis.

"Oh yes." Alexis replied as she started reaching for the packet.

"It tastes like soap." I added.

"I'll pass." Alexis quickly snatched back her hand.

"Suit yourself." I replied. It meant more for me.

I moved over to the kitchen and started for the fridge but paused when Alexis called out.

"Oh Dad." Alexis said. "Taylor asked if she could come to your book launch party with me? Would that be okay?"

"Sure." I replied with a smile and went for the fridge. I pulled out a beer.

"So, Taylor likes my stuff?" I mused with a small grin.

"Not that I know of." Alexis replied.

"Then..." I started frowning.

"Oh you are so dense." Mother laughed. "She wants to get dressed up, go to a party, meet boys. She doesn't care about your book."

"Thanks Dad." Alexis called out.

"Oh."

I did not know if I approve of such activities. Book launches are important literary events not some meat market where teenage girls can pick up. Though I will admit I did meet one or two rather delightful young ladies at such events more than a few years ago. But I digress...

"You really are something, you know?" Mother said. "You always think everything's about you. Here." Mother passed over a stack of papers.

"What are these?" I asked as I took a look at them.

"Oh they're flyers for my play." Mother explained. "I thought you could hand them out when you're signing books Monday night."

"Uh gee, I was thinking, actually, that I might keep the evening about me."

Mother's hopeful expression faded. She took back the flyers.

"See if I plug your book when I'm doing PR."

"How will my career survive?" I quipped.

"Boy, you know, ever since that little visit from your agent Paula, you have been insufferably cocky." Mother remarked.

I had mentioned to Mother the other day about Paula's visit and the reason for said visit. I might have been more than a little excited at the time. 'Insufferably cocky'? Really? I don't think I was.

"And, frankly," Mother continued. "I never understood the appeal of..."

"Ah! No! Don't say it! You'll jinx it!" I interjected desperately.

Mother being the actress that she is knows very well about jinxes. Under the roof of the loft you will never hear the name 'MacBeth' ever mentioned, not even in a whisper. It is always referred to as 'that Scottish play'. For those who do not know, for the acting fraternity those who utter the name of Shakespeare's famous play are condemned to suffer some misfortune or another. I myself have heard Mother rattle off instances where some actor or actress tempted fate and mentioned the name only to have something bad happen to said actor or actress. Why tempt fate, right?

"...certain British spy." Mother said carefully.

"Thank you." I sighed with relief. "And I have loved him since I was a kid."

"I know, I know, it's a big deal." Mother smiled. "Congratulations."

"Well I haven't got the official offer yet." I said. "And it would mean not doing another Nikki Heat book."

"Well I know somebody that you would make very happy." Mother said with a knowing smile.

I gave her a quizzical look.

"Beckett."

I looked surprised at her response.

"Oh please, she'll be thrilled not to have you following her around. I'm sure the poor girl is counting down the day."

"Actually, I'd like to think I've been fairly useful to her, solving cases-wise." I said slowly.

"Oh, please. I'm sure she got alone fine before you arrived." Mother said derisively as she got off the stool she was sitting on and walked off.

This little conversation with mother left me rather deflated. Crestfallen even. I had rather liked writing Nikki Heat. Correction. I loved writing Nikki Heat. No sooner had I finished the first book and had it sent off the to publisher before I was already at work, drafting scenes and ideas for the next book. Detective Kate Beckett is an incredibly inspiring person. The other thing was, that I rather liked helping Beckett and the boys solving murders. I felt like I was making a valuable contribution. I certainly had seen a side of the city that I love that most New Yorkers never get to see, thankfully. Also I got to work with a group of good people, caring people, determined people.

I have always wanted to write about that certain British spy. In my teenage years I had written a great number of stories featuring this certain British spy. I still have them somewhere. When word went around the literary world that the estate of the late Ian Fleming were thinking of allowing new novels featuring this certain British spy, I entertained a passing thought that I might be asked to write about him. Some other writers were given that task and I soon forgot about it and moved on, concentrating on Derrick Storm.

I had never thought that if I took the offer to write about a certain British spy I would no longer be working with these fine members of the New York Police Department. It certainly put a dampener on my excitement at the prospect of being asked to write about this certain British spy. Deep in thought I left the kitchen and made my way into my office.

XXX

I walked into the bullpen around eleven the next morning to find Beckett at her desk on the phone. I gave her a wave in greeting once I sat down which she returned.

"S-O-K-O-L, Sokol...No, she doesn't have a social security number, she's illegal." Beckett told whoever was on the end of the line. "Alright, notify all precincts, including the boroughs. Thank you."

She hung up the phone and started typing on her computer.

"I did a records check on Eliska Sokol." Beckett explained to me. "She didn't have any run-ins with the law enforcement, so I asked Central to put her name on the blotter. You never know, might turn up something."

As Beckett was talking and typing away I reached over and picked up the photograph that we had found in Eliska's apartment and studied it.

"You know, I was thinking about how to track this mystery woman." I said as I continued to look at the photograph. "I bet you Parks and Recreation will be able to tell us in which playground this photo was taken. You see how there's sand at the bottom? A lot of playgrounds have wood chips or this green spongy stuff that used to freak out Alexis. There's also a climbing feature in the back here."

I glanced across to Beckett and found her holding up her note pad. On the note pad was an address that she had been written down.

"75th and Lexington." I read out. "Oh, great minds think alike, I guess."

"Next thing your going to do is tell me that I should go down there with the photograph." Beckett said slowly.

"Wouldn't be a horrible idea." I remarked.

Beckett's cell phone started ringing. She looked at it.

"Oh, look. Esposito is calling. Wonder what he and Ryan have been doing all morning?" Beckett said a little tersely before she reached over and picked up the phone and answered it. She gave me a brief amused smile before she rose from her desk and walked off speaking to Esposito.

I could not quite put my finger on it but I had a feeling there was something bothering Beckett. Normally when I made suggestions like the one just now about the playground, she would not respond tersely. If she was upset about something more than likely I had something to do with it. What exactly it was, I had no idea, and you could bet your bottom dollar Beckett would not tell me if I came right out and asked her. The only thing I could was to keep an eye out and watch for clues.

Beckett came back after ending her call with Esposito and informed me that the boys had possibly found the location of where the mystery woman lived. She gathered up her things and started heading for the elevator. I rose from my chair and fell into step beside her.

XXX

Beckett and I met the boys out the front of an upscale apartment building on the Upper West Side. Beckett led us in as we entered the lobby. The place was certainly upscale, the flooring in the lobby was certainly made of marble or what looked like marble, and the furnishings in the lobby could easily be found in some of the better five star hotels downtown.

"A nanny in the playground said she recognised the kid in the photo." Esposito reported. "Said she was pretty sure that the family lived in this building."

As the four of us approached the front desk, a black suited man broke off from the group he was speaking to and walked towards us. He looked and certainly acted like he was the manager. He smiled in greeting.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

Beckett held up her portfolio which had her badge attached to it.

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett NYPD." Beckett replied, she pulled out the photograph of the kid and the mystery woman and showed it to the manager. "We're wondering if you recognise anyone in this photograph?"

"That's Zane Talbot and his mother." The manager replied, handing back the photograph.

"Were they tenants here?" I asked.

The manager looked from me to Beckett.

"Can I ask what this is about?" He asked.

"We're conducting an investigation into the murder of a woman named Eliska Sokol." Beckett informed him.

"Eliska? She's dead?" The manager said, looking shocked.

"You know her?" I said.

"She worked here until a few days ago." The manager explained.

"In what capacity?" Beckett asked him.

The manager said that Eliska Sokol had started off in the laundry room and a few weeks ago she had been promoted to Client Services. The manager explained that this building was a concierge building there was a staff of around seventy-five people providing the building's tenants with around the clock attention.

"Like living in a fancy hotel." Ryan remarked.

"Do you have any idea why Eliska left?" Beckett asked.

The manager frowned a little.

"She didn't." He said. "She was let go. There was an incident with one of the tenants. Mrs Talbot, actually."

XXX

The manager escorted us up to the apartment that belonged to Dr Cameron Talbot and his wife Melissa. We were shown into their living room. It was nicely furnished with tasteful items and nothing flashy or ostentatious but not modest either. To be able to afford to live in a building like this, one needed money, and the Talbots had a bit of money.

Dr Talbot was a tall slender man in his early to mid forties with blonde hair that was starting to turn grey at the edges. His wife I was guess was aged in her early thirties. They looked like a happy couple.

Beckett broke the news to them about the murder of Eliska Sokol, and they took the news with shock and disbelief.

"Poor woman." Dr Talbot said, frowning. "Do you have any idea who killed her?"

Dr Talbot was standing off to the side of the couch signing for the room service meal that had arrived just as we had been shown into the apartment. He saw the room service guy out and then bent down to where his son was playing on the floor.

"We're working on it." Beckett informed him. "The manager said that there was some sort of incident?"

Melissa nodded her head, looking a little apologetic.

"I suppose you could call it that." Melissa said. "Really, I think the whole thing was blown way out of proportion."

"Could you tell us what happened?" Beckett asked her.

Melissa Talbot said that it happened last Wednesday. She was with her son, Zane, in his room. Eliska came in to change the towels in his bathroom. The phone had started ringing and Melissa got up to answer it. On her return she found that Zane's door was closed. When she opened the door and entered the room she found Eliska sitting on the floor with Zane. Melissa thought that they might have been playing or something but she did not given that much thought because she saw that her son had a lollipop in his mouth. Apparently Eliska had given Zane a lollipop. Melissa felt that one did not do that, giving someone else's child candy without permission because the child could be allergic or diabetic, or that sort of thing.

During Melissa's explanation Dr Talbot had risen from where his son was and came to join his wife on the couch.

"Maybe she was just trying to be nice." I suggested to Melissa.

"You have to understand, we hardly knew this woman." Dr Talbot explained. "It wasn't like she was our housekeeper, that we saw everyday."

"I didn't say anything, but I think she sensed I was unhappy because she got all flustered and couldn't get out there fast enough." Melissa said, continuing her story. "So I decided to let it go. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that that was not the first time that she seemed overly familiar with him."

"Overly familiar?" I question.

Dr Talbot looked at his wife before he turned to look at us.

"Giving him more attention than seemed appropriate." He explained.

"Did you ever think it might have been cultural?" Beckett suggested. "That might be the way people are with children in her country?"

"Of course." Melissa replied. "All I did was mention to the manager that maybe somebody would want to talk to her, you know, about what's appropriate. I didn't even know that she had been fired until you told us." Melissa shook her head.

"And now she's...I...I...mean, I feel horrible, I really do." She added.

Dr Talbot's pager started beeping. The doctor reached for it.

"I'm sorry, I'm on call." He said. "Unless there's something else?" He rose from the couch and started putting on his jacket.

"No, no. I think we have everything we need." Beckett said.

Beckett and I rose to our feet as the interview was wound up. Melissa looked up at Beckett.

"Um...you don't suppose that her being let go has anything to do with what happened to her?" She asked.

"We can't rule anything out." Beckett informed her. "It's possible that she was hard pressed for money and she got into something that she shouldn't have."

Melissa's face fell.

"Then it's my fault." She said in a low voice.

"No, Mrs Talbot, it's the fault of the person who killed her." Beckett said in a firm tone. "Thank you for your time."

I remained quiet on the ride down to the lobby but I had been a little surprised at the way Beckett had treated Melissa Talbot. It was only when we reached the lobby that I decided to I bring up the topic.

"That was pretty nice of you, letting her off the hook like that." I remarked. "It's pretty obvious Eliska blames her for losing her job."

Beckett glanced at me as we walked through the lobby.

"Maybe so, and maybe being let go somehow led her to being killed." Beckett replied. "But making that woman feel any worse won't get us closer to solving the crime."

I had to admit that Beckett made a good point so I left it at that.

"Hey, got anything?" Beckett asked Esposito who was coming to meet us.

"Just that our vic used to be married." Esposito informed us. "Housekeeper I was talking to said Eliska mentioned it to her once. Ryan's running it."

At the mention of his name Ryan joined our group.

"His name is Teodor Hajek." Ryan said. "Records check came up with a domestic disturbance call from two years ago."

"An abusive ex-husband." I suggested turning to look at Beckett.

"Maybe he came back for an encore performance." She replied, grimly.

XXX

Teodor Hajek worked in the kitchen of restaurant in a mid town hotel. Beckett, Ryan and I entered the kitchen area. It was pretty busy with kitchen staff preparing for the next service, others washing dishes from the previous service. Beckett approached one of the kitchen hands closest to her. She badged the guy.

"NYPD, we're looking for Teodor Hajek."

"Back there, mam." The kitchen hand pointed off in the direction at the far end of the kitchen area where there were a row of shelves. Beyond the shelves we caught sight of Hajek.

Beckett thanked the kitchen hand and then started off in that direction. I followed her and Ryan followed me. Hajek had seen us through the shelves and was instantly wary.

"Teodor Hajek?" Beckett asked.

"Yes?"

"Could you step around, please?" Beckett instructed. "We'd like to ask you a few questions. Thank you."

Hajek started came from around the shelves slowly. There was a look of alarm on his face. Suddenly the door to his right that he was passing opened and a kitchen hand carrying a blue crate came walking through. Hajek spotted his chance to flee and he took it with both hands. He grabbed the kitchen hand with both hands and forceably pushed him over then started running. Beckett was instantly after him. Ryan also started running but as I was blocking his way, he ran into me. There was a comic moment as we tried to give each other a way clear.

"Ryan, cut him off." Beckett yelled.

Ryan muttered something which I did not quite catch but he managed to manoeuvre around me and set off in another direction in order to cut off Hajek. I was close behind Beckett as she gave chase. This was like a chase scene that you find in the movies where the good guys are chasing the bad guy through a restaurant kitchen. There were a lot of plates smashed on the floor, there was a lot of bumping into the various kitchen staff. I even managed to catch sight of Ryan leapfrogging a bench as he continued to chase our suspect.

I came round a corner and noticed on a bench a row of plates with what looked like dessert. I could not help myself but I made a quick pit stop to dip my finger in one of the desserts. It tasted pretty good. I did not linger on what I had tasted as I resumed running after Hajek.

Ryan was gaining on Hajek but the guy burst through another set of doors and entered the empty dinning area.

"Stop! Stop right there!" Ryan called out.

Hajek, as you can well imagine declined the invitation to stop.

Waiting for him in the dinning room was Esposito. Beckett had sent him around to the front while she, Ryan and I went through the back. It was a prescient move on her part.

"Come here!" Esposito shouted as he ran at the fleeing man.

Now Hajek was a baulky looking man, solidly built and looked like he could steam roll anyone who got in his way. Esposito did not even flinch as he took him down with a shoulder tackle. Hajek flew over Esposito's shoulder and landed on the floor with heavy thud that seemed to knock the wind out of him a little.

"Why didn't you stop?" Esposito shouted as he restrained a struggling Hajek, rolling him on his stomach.

Ryan came running up a moment later with his gun drawn.

"Stay down buddy." Ryan ordered.

Beckett strolled up and bent down and snapped the handcuffs on him.

"Teodor Hajek, you're under arrest." Beckett informed.

XXX

Teodor Hajek, as I said before, was a solidly built man. He was aged in his early thirties with short black hair and a beard. The rest of his face sported bristles that seemed to indicate it had not seen a razor for a couple of days. He sat at the table in the interrogation room where he had been left brooding silently. He was staring down at the floor but lifted his head when the door to the interrogation room was opened.

Beckett entered the room first and I followed her in, closing the door behind me.

"Mr Hajek, you have been advised of your rights?" Beckett said as she sat down and opened her portfolio.

"Yes." Came the heavily accented reply.

"And you declined an attorney?"

"For what?" Hajek replied. "You going to deport me either way, yes?"

Beckett looked up from her portfolio and over to Hajek.

"Mr Hajek, we're not from Immigration. Is that why you ran?"

"My visa is expired many years before." Hajek explained.

"Well we're not interested in your immigration status." Beckett told him. "I'm a homicide detective."

That piece of news startled Hajek. He looked at Beckett and then at me before drawing his eyes back to Beckett.

"Homicide?"

"We'd like to ask you some questions about your ex-wife."

A look of concern crossed Hajek's face.

"Eliska, yes? What happened? Tell me." Hajek said, his concern growing.

"She was killed three nights ago." Beckett informed him.

Up till now Hajek had not expressed too much emotion on his face but the news that his ex wife had been killed did stun him. He stared at Beckett for a moment before he looked at me, as if he was asking me if this was true. I gave him a small nod of my head, silently telling him that it was true.

Hajek dropped his eyes to the table and let out a low sigh. He muttered something in his native tongue.

"Where we you on Thursday between 5 and 9pm?" Beckett asked, after a moment.

"I was home asleep. I work double shift and was tired."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Maybe neighbours saw, I don't know." Hajek shrugged.

"We have a domestic disturbance complaint from two years ago involving you and your wife." Beckett said. "Would you mind telling us about that?"

"We were arguing. Neighbours call police."

"What did you argue about?" I asked.

Hajek turned to look at me.

"She wanted to leave me. I didn't want her to go."

"Why did she want to leave?" I pressed.

"She said to be with me hurt her. Because...uh...too much I remind her of Martin, our son." Hajek replied slowly and sadly. There was a ripple of emotion beneath his face. "God took him from us three years ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Beckett said gently.

"It tore her heart away. He was everything to her. He was so perfect when he was born." Hajek paused a moment as he struggled to contain his emotions. His eyes were shiny with tears that threatened.

"But the sickness was in him even then." Hajek continued. "There was nothing we could do. Except watch him waste away and away."

Hajek reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and took out a small photograph. He regarded the photograph with a wistful expression on his face before he passed it across to Beckett.

I leaned a little closer to Beckett to see the picture she was holding. It was your standard happy family portrait of Mom, Dad and baby Martin. They looked happy in that picture, full of the promise that life held.

"That was my family. We were happy once." Hajek sighed. "Now they're gone from me, both of them...gone."

I don't think there are words you can say to a man who has lost a child and a wife in such horribly tragic circumstances. I should know, I'm a writer. I felt for the guy, really felt for him. He had come to America from the old country to partake in the American Dream but instead of the dream he got a nightmare.

Beckett ended the interrogation, thanking Hajek for his time and organised a ride to take him home.

I knew that he was not our guy and looking at Beckett's face I could tell that she did not think he was either.

A little later Beckett and I found ourselves in the break room. Beckett was seated at a table and I was at the coffee machine making coffees for the both of us. Beckett had wanted to make her own cup but I had insisted on making it and she relented and and sat down. I brought over her coffee.

"Kind of puts a whole new perspective on the Talbot incident." Beckett remarked. I nodded as I handed over her coffee. "Thank you."

I sat down at the table. "Well he probably reminded Eliska of her own little boy." I said. "She was trying to be nice to him, and next thing you know she's out of a job."

Esposito and Ryan entered the break room. Beckett had got the boys to check out Hajek's alibi and they had just returned from accomplishing that task. Esposito pulled out a chair and sat down while Ryan went to the coffee machine and poured a coffee for himself and his partner.

"Ex-husband's alibi checks out." Esposito reported. "Neighbour remembers seeing him come home around five."

"Well, no surprise there." I said. "He was never our guy."

"Okay guys, let's put ourselves in Eliska's shoes." Beckett said. "She's suddenly unemployed, she's worried about making rent. What kind of trouble can she get herself into?"

"The usual suspects are kind of hard to see with her...drugs...prostitution." Ryan said from at the coffee machine. He picked up the mugs and came over to the table. He passed a mug across to Esposito and then sat down.

"Okay, well, there's got to be something else." Beckett mused aloud. After a moment her face brightened a little as a thought came to her. "You know what? Let's go back to the building. See if there's anyone we missed in the first canvass. Someone must have seen or heard something."

Beckett got to her feet and I followed her a second later. Esposito picked up his mug from off the table and also got to his feet. Ryan frowned unhappily. He had just sat down to enjoy a cup of coffee and now he had to get up again because of work.

Before heading out Beckett drew up a list of the tenants at Eliska's building and divided the list evenly between ourselves and the boys. With that task completed we rolled.

XXXXX

_**Drop me a line to me know what you thought of this effort.**_

_**Con **_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The Case of When The Bough Breaks

Part 3

Canvassing the tenants on Beckett's list had proven to be a fruitless task. Those tenants who we had spoken to before could provide nothing further than what they had already told us, and those who had been missed in the first canvass could not help us with any information. Either they did not want to be helpful or more likely they did not know anything, or had not seen anything.

On reaching the last apartment on our list, I stood back and had my fingers crossed hoping that Beckett and I would have more luck with this last tenant while Beckett spoke to the tenant. The tenant in question was a sour looking old lady who looked a little bit like Grandma Munster but without the grey hair. She was a bust too.

"Thank you so much for your time." Beckett told her winding up the interview. "If you can think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call." Beckett passed over her card to the old lady. The old lady took the card and closed the door on Beckett.

We moved away from the apartment and walked to the end of the hallway.

"Well, that's everybody on our list." Beckett sighed.

"Let's hope Ryan and Esposito are having better luck upstairs." I replied.

Beckett came to a stop and turned to look at me.

"Can I ask you a question, Castle?"

I could not help but grin as I suspected what her question was going to be, so I was more than happy to help her out.

"I already know what you're going to ask." I replied. "The dress code for the party is evening cocktail. If you're stumped, just ask yourself, what would Nikki Heat wear?"

"When were you going to tell me about the other book?" Beckett said.

So it wasn't about what to wear at the book launch party. Her question startled me.

"You know about that?"

"So, it's true?"

"Well, it's not a done deal yet."

"Did it ever occur to you to talk to me first?"

I was a little surprised by Beckett's reaction.

"Well, frankly, I thought you would be relieved." I said.

"Oh don't flatter yourself."

"Well, I mean, I'm flattered to be even considered. Writing a certain British secret agent would be a very big opportunity for me."

There appeared an unusual expression on Beckett's face. A mixture of surprise and startlement and a couple of other emotions I could not quite put my finger on.

"I was talking about Nikki Heat."

"Oh."

"Wait a minute." Beckett's eyes widened. "A certain British secret agent? Are you...?"

"If they actually offer it to me." I interjected hurriedly before she mentioned the name. "They may not."

"Yeah, but if they do?"

"Well, I would certainly consider it. Like I said, I thought you would be relieved."

Beckett's face was a mask of mixed emotions. If I did not know better I could have sworn I thought I saw disappointment there. I did not get the chance to pursue it because Ryan and Esposito came walking along the hallway.

"You sure we talked to 4-E last time?" Ryan asked his partner.

"What, robe lady?" Esposito replied. "Yeah, she didn't know our vic, but wanted us to help her with the ghost in her apartment."

"Oh, yeah." Ryan nodded his head.

"You guys a bust too?" Beckett called out.

"Yeah, we talked to everybody who wasn't home the last time." Esposito said when he joined us.

"Well, that's it then." Beckett sighed. "We hit everybody in the building."

"Yep." Ryan nodded.

Further discussion was suddenly curtailed when a young woman pulling one of those wheeled suitcases tried to pass by us. We all flattened ourselves against the walls to allow her to pass through.

"Sorry." I said.

"Excuse me, sorry." Beckett said with a smile.

"Pardon us." Ryan added.

The young woman smiled, nodding her thanks and continued down the hallway. Beckett watched her go before suddenly turning to look at the boys.

"Did you...?"

"It was..."

Before Ryan had a chance to finish his reply Beckett sprinted down the hallway.

"Miss!" She called.

The young woman was startled but stopped when Beckett came up to her. For the first time in this case the Universe decided to smile on us and we caught a break.

XXX

I was standing just outside one of the conference rooms. With me was Beckett and Captain Montgomery. We were looking into the conference room where Luggage girl was seated. She was with a police sketch artist. Also in the room were Ryan and Esposito.

"She was out of town for our first canvas." Beckett briefed the captain. "But the night of the vic's murder, she remembers her arguing with a man in the hallway."

"Well dressed, mid forties." I added.

"Doesn't exactly narrow things down." Captain Montgomery pointed out.

I turned from looking at the conference room to the captain.

"No, but the pager on the belt does." I said.

The sketch artist finished his drawing. Luggage girl nodded her head at something that Esposito had asked her. He took the finished sketch and opened the doors of the conference room and came over.

"Beckett." He said, showing her the finished sketch.

"What do you think, Castle?" Beckett said with a smile on her face. "Look like someone we know?"

I took a look at the sketch and found myself staring at the spitting image of a certain medical practitioner we had the pleasure of meeting not so very long ago. I glanced over to Beckett.

"Paging Dr Talbot." I said.

Because of the lateness of the hour Beckett decided that we should leave paying a visit to the good Dr Talbot until the following day. However she before called it a night she tasked the boys to look a little further at Dr Talbot in the morning, to see if there was any connection between him Eliska.

XXX

Beckett and I arrived at the office of Dr Talbot around eleven thirty. He was with a patient at the time so we were forced to wait in the reception area for a few minutes. Having to read back issues of _National Geographic_ or celebrity magazines or brochures on pregnancy while we waited to see the good doctor did not fill me with much enthusiasm. While Beckett sat down and started reading an article about Australia's bard of the bush, Banjo Patterson, featured in _National Geographic_ of August 2004 I paced the floor pausing every now and then to inspect a picture on the wall.

I was feeling a little anxious but it had nothing to do with the meeting with Dr Talbot or the case in general. I had been feeling like this from the moment I had woken this morning. I was feeling a little antsy because tonight was the night of the launch of _Heat Wave_. I wanted everything to go off well this evening which I knew it would since it had been Paula who had been overseeing it. Heaven help anyone or everyone if things did not go according to Paula's plan. Even more I wanted a good reception for the book itself and in particular the character, Nikki Heat. In my heart of hearts I knew that _Heat Wave_ was the best thing I had ever written. I just hoped the rest of the world thought the same when they got to read the book.

"Hey, Castle." Beckett said. "You ever heard of a poet called Banjo Patterson?"

I turned away from the picture I was staring at and walked over to where Beckett was sitting. She held up the magazine she was holding, showing me the article she had been reading. I could not help but smile.

"Andrew Barton 'Banjo' Patterson." I said, my smile growing. "Yeah, I've heard of him."

Beckett shot me a quizzical look in response. I don't think she was expecting that. And I know she did not expect what came next.

"_I had written him a letter which I had for want of better _

_Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,_

_He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,_

_Just on spec, addressed as follows, 'Clancy of The Overflow.'"_

Beckett's quizzical look turned to one of astonishment as I recited the opening stanza of the poem entitled _Clancy of The Overflow_. After I had finished she opened her mouth to no doubt question me about how I knew about some Australian poet but the head nurse came over to inform us that Dr Talbot hand finished with his patient and he could see us now in his office. I was spared a grilling from Detective Beckett.

You may or may not know, but when it comes to poets and writers my first love has been and always will be Edgar Allen Poe. I had briefly flirted with Banjo Patterson. It had occurred in an English class in one of the high schools I had attended. The teacher had set us an assignment to study a poet and to even recite in front of the class one of the poems of the poet we had chosen.

Knowing most of my fellow classmates would pick American poets, and the slightly adventurous ones would pick some of the more well known English poets, I decided to be more different. Yeah, I was a bit of a rebel in my high school days. With the helpful assistance from one the librarians at the New York Public Library, I was given the book _The Man From Snowy River and Other Verses_ by Banjo Patterson. But I digress...

Dr Talbot's office was spacious and functional with the colour brown a little too prominent in the colour scheme. It was obvious to my eye that some interior decorator had been let loose in here with Dr Talbot having to pay way over the odds for the exercise. His desk was slightly too large and had few knick knacs but included the obligatory framed photograph of the wife and child. Two chairs had been set out in front of his desk. Dr Talbot greeted us and then waved us to our seats before he sat down in his leather armchair.

Beckett wasted little time in accusing him of having lied to her, which as some of you would know, is not a very good thing to do. Dr Talbot was a little taken back by the accusation but a moment later he denied it.

Beckett opened her portfolio and pulled out a copy of the police sketch artist's rendition that Luggage girl had provided us the day before. Beckett informed the good doctor that there had been a witness who had seen Eliska arguing with a man on the day she had died and she had provided a very good description of said man. Beckett then handed the picture to Dr Talbot to look at.

"Look familiar, Doctor?" She asked.

Dr Talbot studied the picture for some moments. I detected a slight twitch on his face when he first set eyes on the picture. He quickly regained control of his emotions.

"I admit there's a similarity." Dr Talbot conceded as he dropped the picture on his desk. "But it wasn't me."

I was surprised at his response. He was trying to bluff us? Who was he kidding? I wanted to play poker with this guy, I'd clean him out in under an hour. I glanced across to Beckett and saw her staring back at Dr Talbot, looking incredulous at is response.

"Do you really want us to pull you out of here and put you in a line up?" Beckett said. "Because that's exactly where this is headed."

"Okay, this is insane, I hardly knew the woman." Dr Talbot said curtly.

If Dr Talbot was selling, well Detective Beckett wasn't buying.

"We did some checking, Dr Talbot." Beckett informed him. "Before she worked in your apartment, she worked at Bryant General. That's where you see patients, isn't it?"

Ryan and Esposito had done a pretty good job digging up information on the good doctor. It had taken them less than an hour to find that the good doctor and our victim had worked at the same hospital.

"What exactly was the nature of your relationship with this woman?" I asked him.

"There was no relationship." Dr Talbot exclaimed.

"Alright, we're out of here." Beckett announced, sounding more than a little annoyed. She dug into the pocket of her coat and produced a pair of handcuffs. I too had gotten to my feet. "You're coming with us to the precinct."

"You meet a nice class of people in a line up." I confided to Dr Talbot. "You'd be surprised."

Dr Talbot on seeing the sight of the handcuffs in Beckett's hand suddenly realised that this was serious and the time for fun and games was over.

"Okay, wait." Dr Talbot said hurriedly and not with a little concern. "There was a relationship."

I sat back down and awaited to hear him spill. Beckett on the other hand remained standing looking hard at him.

"Eliska and I, we were having an affair." Dr Talbot confessed, looking a little embarrassed. "We met when she was working at the hospital. I was there late one night and we got to talking. Anyway, we crossed paths a couple of times after that and one thing led to another...God this is humiliating."

"What happened when she found out you were married?" Beckett questioned.

"Well, she was upset." Dr Talbot replied. "But I convinced her that I just needed some time to figure out how to end things with Melissa."

"Which you never intended to do." I pointed out. I have known a few guys like that. Married and very happy to have affairs, promising the woman that they were in love with them and will leave their wife but with no intention of doing so.

Dr Talbot looked at me sharply for a moment before he spoke.

"And it was good for a while, but she was losing patience. And then she even started paying special attention to Zane, as if she was almost getting ready to become a part of his life, and...it was just impossible."

"Well, why didn't you just break up with her?" Beckett asked.

Dr Talbot said that he had tried but Eliska would not let go. Then when that incident with the candy and his wife he felt that it was the last straw. It was a relief to him when Eliska was fired. However he did go to see Eliska the following day to give her some money but she had started screaming at him. He had tried to calm her down but she wouldn't calm down, and as there was nothing else for him to do but to turn around and walk away.

Beckett's face was unreadable as she listened to the doctor's story.

"Where were you on Thursday between 5 and 9 a.m.?" She asked.

"I was here at the office and I worked late that day." Dr Talbot said.

There was a knock on the door and a moment later it opened and the head nurse popped her head in.

"Excuse me doctor, but your wife and son just arrived. You were supposed to have lunch today."

"Oh, right, of course." Dr Talbot nodded his head. "Can you just give me one more second?"

"Of course." The head nurse said before she closed the door.

There was an expression of a little desperation on Dr Talbot's face as he turned his attention up to Beckett.

"Please, just check my alibi, do whatever you have to do." He pleaded. "But I'm begging you, please leave my wife out of it."

"There are no promises, Dr Talbot." Beckett said tersely. "I am following this investigation to wherever it leads."

The door opened again young Zane came barrelling in excitedly, with his mother close on his heels.

"Daddy!"

"Hey, buddy." Dr Talbot said smiling at the sight of his son. "Come here!"

The little boy jumped into the arms of his father.

"Detective Beckett, I didn't expect to see you here today." Melissa said with a smile.

I turned to look at Beckett to see what she would say in response to Melissa. Beckett looked a little uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on her.

"Um...A clerk misplace the notes from our first interview and your husband was very kind to let us go over it all again." Beckett announced.

"I see." Melissa smiled.

"Happy to help." Dr Talbot added, with a relieved smile.

"Have a wonderful lunch."

Beckett motioned to me and we left Dr Talbot's office. I followed Beckett as she walked over to the reception desk where the head nurse was sitting. She had the phone to her ear but nodded to Beckett. Beckett asked the nurse about last Thursday.

"Yes, I'll hold." The head nurse said and looked up at Beckett. "So, you're asking about last Thursday?"

"That's right."

"That was a long day." The nurse said. "We were booked solid from mid-morning on, then stayed late for monthly inventory."

"Dr Talbot too?" I asked.

"Hi...yes...it's Dr Talbot's office calling." The nurse looked up at us again. "Him too, we wrapped up a little after nine."

Beckett thanked the head nurse but could not stop the frown appearing on her face as we left the office.

On returning to the precinct we met the boys in the lobby and rode up in the elevator. Beckett remained silent for a few moments in response the boys asking about what happened at Dr Talbot's office. I told told the boys what happened.

The elevator arrived on our floor and we stepped out and started making our way to the bullpen.

"You got to be kidding, he alibied out?" Esposito said incredulously.

"Oh, come on, we had him arguing with our vic on the day of the murder." Ryan added.

"It wasn't him." Beckett said simply.

Entering the bullpen we were waylaid by Detective Karpowski.

"Hey Beckett, just got off the horn with the 74th in Brooklyn." she announced. "Uniform recognised your vic's name off the blotter, he thinks from a call he answered about two years back."

"What kind of call?" Beckett asked her.

"Doesn't remember exactly and the incident report was never computerised, but he's fairly sure someone filed a complaint about your vic."

"That could be almost anything." Esposito pointed out.

"Yeah, well, they should have the file pulled by morning." Karpowski replied.

Beckett nodded her thanks to Karpowski and resumed walking to her desk.

"I think our vic isn't as squeaky clean as we've been making her out to be." Ryan remarked.

"Well, whatever the complaint is, I'm going to need the two of you to pick it up first thing in the morning." Beckett ordered.

Both Ryan and Esposito frowned at that order. I on the other hand had a smile on my face. I reached in to the inside pocket of my jacket and withdrew a pair of sunglasses that I kept there and put them on.

"Guys, I got two words to tide you over in the meantime. 'Open bar'."

Those two words quickly removed the frown from the boys' faces. I had practically invited half the precinct to the book launch and certainly the entire Homicide squad. I did not know exactly who was turning up but I did know that the boys were eager to attend.

I could not stay because I needed to go home to get ready for the launch party. I departed the bullpen with the words; 'I'll see you at the party tonight' ringing in the ears of Beckett and the boys.

XXX

Unlike the last book launch party of mine I was really nervous about this one as the hour approached. I spent an inordinately long time just trying to decide on what to wear. Mind you, I had already picked out a suit but at the last moment I decided it wasn't the right one and then plunged into my walk in wardrobe in search of something a little better.

Thankfully my darling daughter came to the rescue. She had noticed my growing agitation and indecisiveness. She must have been clued in when I asked her about half a dozen times if this suit or that suit was a good choice to wear. She liked each of my selections only to have me return a couple minutes later with a different suit.

On the seventh appearance Alexis had had enough and she took me by the hand and led me back into the bedroom. She stepped into the walk in wardrobe, and I swear less than ten seconds later she reappeared with a black pinstripe suit and a dark purple shirt. She threw the clothes at me and ordered I put them on.

First crisis solved. The second crisis reared its head not long after I had gotten dressed. I walked into the living room where Mother had joined Alexis while she waited for me. I had with me several ties. Once again I asked for her opinion. I was told in no uncertain terms, no ties unless I wanted her to commit patricide.

As I went back to leave the ties, I could not help but notice that Mother had chosen to remain silent during the last exchange with my daughter about suitable tie wear. Mother is usually only too happy to provide her opinion on my sartorial matters.

With the second crisis over, I was good to go.

I would have been happy to arrive in a town car but Paula had lashed out on a stretch limo and well I was not going to argue with her over this minor matter.

Our arrival at the hotel where the book launch party was being held was like the arrival of a rock star like Bono or one the latest boys bands. There was a red carpet rolled out and there was a bevy of photographers lining either side of the red carpet and more than a few reporters. I also could not help but notice there were a few rotating searchlights. Paula certainly had gone all out by the looks of things.

I had Mother on one side of me and Alexis on the other. Progress along the red carpet was constantly interrupted by reporters throwing questions at me which I was only too happy to answer, or photographers shouting for us to stop and pose, again which I was only too happy to accommodate.

Entering the large function room I was once again assaulted by volleys of photographer's flashes. I kept on smiling and waving to people, basically having a pretty good time, and enjoying it. All around the walls were enlarged posters of the front cover of _Heat Wave_ with the silhouette of the smoking hot naked model holding a gun.

In the middle of the room was a round table where a large pile of the books had been arranged into a pyramid. There were more books placed on other tables around the room.

Mother and Alexis left me to do what I do at my book launch parties, meet and greet, sign books, sign one or two chests, trade funny quips and generally schmooze. Through out it all I kept looking out for Beckett. There was no sign of her thus far. The boys were already here, and I said a quick hello to them at the bar where they were partaking in the free alcohol but they were more interested in observing the passing parade of beautiful women who had scored an invite to this shindig.

Captain Montgomery was also here as well a few others from the precinct. Lanie regrettably was a now show because she was working this evening.

Gina got the official ball rolling. The speeches were supposed to have occurred mid way through the launch party but as she had to be elsewhere later she brought forward the proceedings. She got onto the small podium grabbing the microphone and made a short speech of welcome, thanking everyone for coming and then introducing me.

I was half listening to her what she was saying because it was pretty similar to many others she had given at previous launch parties. I was at least grateful she remembered Nikki Heat's name, and the name of the book. During her speech I was looking out for Beckett. I did have a slight tremor of concern. She had told me that she would be coming to the launch party but I could not help but wonder what had delayed her.

I jumped up onto the podium once I was introduced to loud applause then proceeded to thank everyone for coming. I gave a little background about the book, thanked the NYPD for their assistance and finished the speech by saying that I hoped everyone loved the book. I may have also boasted that this was the best thing I had ever written and finished the speech by ordering everyone to have a good time. Then I signed a few more books, another chest or two and did a bit more schmoozing.

I was sitting with the Literary critic from The Ledger and chatting with him when I heard some one call out.

"Hey! It's Nikki Heat!"

All of a sudden there was a barrage of camera flashes. Striding through the commotion was Detective Kate Beckett looking for all the world like she owned the place. She moved like a model on the catwalk, assured and confident. Disdainful and nervous at all the fuss surrounding her. And boy did she look great in the blue cocktail dress with the plunging neckline. One word, Wow!

The conversation I was having with The Ledger's Literary critic about the crime mystery genre became very one sided all of a sudden with the critic doing all the talking and me trying to act like I was listening but my eyes were riveted on this extraordinary woman who had just walked in. I watched her for another minute before I excused myself and rose from the table.

Captain Montgomery broke away from the little group he was with and walked over to greet Beckett, and I have to thank him for what was said between them.

"You clean up well, Detective." Captain Montgomery smiled.

Beckett smiled back. "Thank you, sir."

"Castle's going to be happy to see you." He said. "Have you read the dedication?"

Beckett gave her captain a curious frown.

"No. What does it say?"

"Go see for yourself." Captain Montgomery said, smiling and motioning in the direction of the displayed books. "Excuse me."

Beckett turned and slowly made her way over to the display table.

I saw Beckett heading for the display table and made a bee line for her. I had gone only a few steps before I was waylaid by my agent, Paula.

"That's her?" She asked, her eyes on Beckett.

"That's her." I nodded, my eyes too were on Beckett. I could not help but smile at the sight.

"Huh. That's one hell of a love letter you wrote her." Paula declared. She turned to me. "Geez, one night in Ibiza and what do I get, a chapter in _Storm Fall_?"

I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from Beckett and looked at Paula.

"A very hot chapter." I reminded her.

"And she gets a whole book?" Paula shot back. "She must be a pretty special girl." Paula said glancing at Beckett. "Let me ask you something, when she calls do you call her back?"

"Yeah." I smiled.

"Of course you do. Because she's important to you and it's polite."

"Paula I call you back." I insisted.

"Three book deal, and I can't even get you on the phone to let you know you've got an official offer?" Paula said with a glare.

This was a stunning piece of information. I could hardly believe it. I was being offered a three book deal to write about the certain British secret agent. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. There would have been a time when I would have done it for free. In the space of several heart beats I found myself torn.

"There's a..."

"Yeah." Paula said emphatically.

"I don't...I..."

"So can I close the deal?"

As I was struggling with the power of coherent speech, I had been glancing in Beckett's direction. She had picked up one of the books and was reading the inside of the dust jacket. It suddenly hit me like a sledgehammer that if I gave Paula the nod to close the deal I would be walking away from Beckett and the boys. There was a part of me that was very unhappy with that prospect.

I turned to look at Paula with a confused and pained expression on my face.

"Paula, I'm sorry." I said, finding my voice. "This is, a big step for me. I don't know if I'm ready to walk away from Nikki Heat."

"Who?" Paula shot back, waving her hand in the direction of where Beckett was standing. "The one on the page or the one standing over there in the Herve Leger dress?"

"The one on the page." I replied as my eyes looked across to the one standing in that Herve Leger dress.

"Oh, Rick." Paula ighed. "Are you sleeping with her?"

I looked at Paula.

"No." I said emphatically.

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for?" Paula demanded. "So, get it out of your system, and then come down to the office and sign the damn contract, okay?"

Paula patted my face and then walked off. I turned and resumed making my way to where Beckett was standing. If the front of her dress was fantastic, the view from the back was just as good. For the first time I saw a lot of flesh. Actually, this was not the first time. I had seen a lot of her flesh but all those others times it had been conjured by my very fertile imagination. I did not realise until now what a sexy back she had.

Beckett had opened the book in her hand to the dedication page just as I reached her. I caught the beginning of a smile. Well, I'm not surprised, considering what I wrote:

_To the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the 12th._

I had agonised over the dedication and had a few sleepless nights trying to come up with just the right words. I had drawn up a long list, any of which were good but they were not good enough for my liking. Then one day in the early hours of the morning the words just came to me. I had asked myself to describe Kate Beckett in one word. A heart beat later the word came, _extraordinary_.

"Hey." I said.

Beckett startled, she spun around to look at me, looking a little flustered and sounding it too.

"Hey. I...I was just, uh. The, uh...the dedication, wow. Thank you." Beckett stammered.

"I meant it." I replied. "You are extraordinary."

Beckett gave me special smile, that tight lipped smile that conveyed so much and as I would come learn in the years ahead, was reserved only for me.

It was in that special moment that we shared I did the least smartest thing I have ever done in my life. No, let's call a spade a spade. It was dumb. A very dumb thing that I did. I chose that moment to bring up the theory of the scorned wife.

The idea had come to me on the ride over to the book launch party. I could have waited until morning. I should have waited until morning to bring this up but Noooo, I stupidly had to go and bring it up now.

Looking back on this episode with the passing of time, what I did still is still very dumb, and I still kick myself over it. I have been forgiven for it but I still feel bad about it.

I will say in my defence, though I don't think I deserve it, my mind was in turmoil over the official offer of a three book deal to write about a certain British secret agent and the prospect of walking away from Nikki Heat, the one on the page as well as the one who was currently dressed in a Herve Leger dress and standing before me.

"Listen, I was thinking..." I started.

There was an expectant, almost hopeful look on Beckett's face when I said those words. I should have taken heed of that look. But I didn't.

"What if the wife got onto the affair?" I said.

The look on Beckett's face faltered and then transformed into confusion.

"Melissa Talbot, a killer?" She said after a moment.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Well, uh, anything's possible. I didn't see it that way."

"You're just saying that because you've never been scorned." I said.

"What makes you say that?" Beckett challenged.

"Oh, come on." I chuckled as I set down on table the book Beckett had been holding and had passed to me. "What man has ever turned you away?"

Big dumbass me! That's who.

Beckett frowned and opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. Quickly she forced a smile to her face and changed the subject.

"So, any word on a certain British secret agent who shall not be named?" Beckett said lightly.

I grinned as I put a finger to my lips. I also looked either side of me to make sure there was no one close by before I turned my gaze to Beckett.

"I got the official offer."

Beckett looked startled. "Wow...Congratulations."

"I haven't accepted it yet."

"But you're going to aren't you?"

"Well, you think I should?"

"Yeah, I mean, is there why you wouldn't?" Beckett replied.

"So, you'd be okay if I didn't write another Nikki Heat?" I asked, my face starting to crease into a little frown.

Beckett scoffed loudly. "I mean, why wouldn't I?" She shot back. "It's not like I asked you to write the first one."

I could not believe where this conversation was heading. I could not understand Beckett's change in attitude. I must admit that I felt a little hurt at her response.

"You know, a lot of people would be flattered that someone chose to write a book based on them."

"Flattered?" Beckett rolled her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Do you have any idea how much grief I've had to put up with over this Nikki Heat thing?" Beckett said angrily.

At the time, I truly did not know what Beckett had to put up with from many of her colleagues, most were good natured jibes, but there were a few envious and nasty remarks, while one or two snidely wondered aloud in her presence what made her special to deserve a book being written about her. None of this was said within my hearing and she had never told me about it until much, much later, and then only just bits and pieces. Had I known what she would have to face would I still have continued with the book? In all honesty, more than likely.

"Gee, I'm sorry." I sarcastically retorted.

"I'm not asking you to be sorry. I'm just..." Beckett paused a moment to marshal her thoughts and she glared at me. "Just do whatever you want to do. You always do, anyway."

"Well, fine. It's settled." I said angrily.

"Fine."

"I'll do the other book."

"Great."

"Enjoy the party." I lobbed.

"Thanks, I will." Beckett volleyed back.

I should have stopped right there and walked away to cool off but I was angry, and I wanted to have the last word. So I retaliated.

"You know what?" I said haughtily. "Just as well, because there really wasn't enough to the character of Nikki Heat for more than one novel anyway."

I was being a petulant little boy, acting like one, speaking like one and definitely thinking like one. Not enough to Nikki Heat for more than one novel? Who am I trying to kid? It has been said that when you're digging a hole for yourself, the first thing you do in order to get out of the hole is to stop digging. I wish I had remembered that dictum.

Beckett, bless her, reminded me in no uncertain terms how much I was kidding myself.

"Oh, there's plenty to the character." Beckett said, taking a step towards me. "She just needs a better writer."

Oh that stung. That really stung.

"Fine." I said tersely through gritted teeth.

"Fine." Beckett said equally tersely, and also through gritted teeth.

For the rest of the party we avoided each other. It did not take me long to cool down and realise what an ass I had been. A part of me wanted to go over and apologise but the other part of me was still smarting from her barb. I also got the impression she was not in the mood to accept my apology. So, I took my mind off that but working the room but all the time I would seek out to see where Beckett was. As book launch parties go, this one could have and should have gone a lot better.

XXXXX

_**Drop me a line to let me know what you thought about this chapter.**_

_**Con **_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The Case of When The Bough Breaks

Part 4

It had been a rather sleepless night I had endured. I had replayed in my mind the scene with Beckett over and over again and each time I did not come out of it smelling like roses. Again not one of my finest hours sad to say. Beckett's barbed comments about my writing abilities had hurt more than I was willing to admit and I suppose I covered that hurt with a veneer of anger and while still seething with anger I had sought out Paula during the book launch party, pulled her aside and told her to accept the offer that had landed on her desk.

Laying in bed praying for sleep to claim me so that I could erase the mess that had been the book launch party, I also went over the decision I had made. I should have been feeling over the moon that I was going to write about a certain British secret agent. That finally one of my dreams was going to come true. Yet I wasn't. It must have been sometime around dawn when the enormity of my decision finally hit me. My relationship with the NYPD had come to an end, and more to the point my relationship with Detective Kate Beckett was over.

I cautiously walked into the bullpen the following morning with some trepidation. I was still troubled by the fight I had with Beckett and I did not want to have to continue it. I would not have not have come in at all but I had left something the day before. Looking at her desk I found it was empty and I was a little relieved at that discovery. I approached her desk. I spotted my sunglasses sitting on her desk. I had forgotten them here last night. Not that I really needed them but they were my favourite pair so I thought best to come in and collect them.

"What are you doing here, Castle?" Beckett said, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Don't you have bigger, more lucrative fish to fry?"

I had almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had come from another direction carrying with her a large take away cup of coffee.

"Actually, I just left my sunglasses here yesterday." I told her.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, that is the lamest excuse I have ever..." He voice trailed off when I picked up the sunglasses off her desk and showed her.

"You know what? While you're at it, don't forget those."

She nodded to the Matryoshka dolls that were sitting on her desk and then walked over to Ryan and Esposito's desks.

I was taken aback by her anger. I had expected her to be a little angry after what had happened last night but this little exchange told me that she was more than a little angry. I suppose another reason for my appearance was that I was hoping for an opportunity to apologise for my behaviour last night. From the looks of things, that was not going to happen. Slowly I started gathering up the dolls and putting them together.

"Did you get the incident report?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah." Esposito replied.

Ryan handed her the file.

"And?" Beckett pressed.

"Apparently, Eliska was seen on multiple occasions hanging around some local park." Esposito reported. "And at some point she walked up to somebody's kid and spoke to him."

"Kid's mom thought it was a little odd because she wasn't there with a child of her own, so mom mentioned it to a patrolman." Ryan added.

"Any charges filed?" Beckett asked.

"No. Supposedly, she was very cooperative and left quietly." Esposito said.

"Sounds a lot like the incident with the Talbot boy." Beckett mused.

"Mm-mmm, poor lady, you got to feel for what she went through." Ryan remarked sadly.

Karpowski walked over and interrupted.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I've got your vic's super on the phone and wants to know if he can go ahead and rent her apartment." She announced. "Says she paid all the way to Friday, but he's got someone who wants it now."

"Tell him to go ahead." Beckett replied. "We already have everything we need from the crime scene."

Karpowski nodded and started back to her desk. Beckett turned to the boys.

"You guys check with the mom who filed the report. There might be something more to it than we realise." she told them.

"On it." Esposito nodded.

I had finished putting the dolls together when Beckett returned to her desk. I had been listening in to what Beckett and the guys were discussing but what Karpowski had said had got me to thinking.

"You still here." Beckett remarked sharply as she sat down.

I ignored that barb but looked over to Karpowski.

"Karpowski, did the super say she was paid to Friday?" I asked.

"That's what he said." Karpowski confirmed.

I frowned as I turned to look at Beckett.

"That doesn't make any sense." I remarked. "The place rents by the week. She was killed last Thursday."

Beckett considered what I had just said. A moment later she spoke.

"How could she be paid up through this coming Friday?"

I nodded my head.

Beckett rose to her feet and gathered her things. I set down the Matryoshka dolls back on Beckett's desk and quickly followed her. I knew where she was heading and I wanted to go with her. It was only when she reached the elevator and pressed the call button did she turn around to look at me with a questioning look. I gave her my best puppy dog look, silently asking her permission to tag along. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the request. Reaching a decision, she gave a curt nod of her head then turned and faced the elevator doors waiting for it to arrive. I was grateful to her for allowing me to come along.

Needless to say it was a very silent ride over to Eliska's apartment with neither one of us wanting to break the silence fearing that what happened last night might be brought up and hence a resuming of our fight.

XXX

We found the building super in the hallway on the fifth floor. He was repairing a light fixture.

"Eliska never missed a payment." the super informed us. "Yeah, I found the rent money slid under my door on Friday. I didn't think anything of it because I didn't know she was dead yet, not until you guys showed up the next day."

I looked over to Beckett. "Now, why would someone pay her rent after she's dead?" I said.

"Whoever killed her must've figured there'd be less chance she'd be reported missing that way." Beckett suggested.

"Look. I...I don't want to seem cold or anything, she was a nice lady, may she rest in peace, but can I rent the apartment?" The super asked. "Should I give her stuff to her friend?"

"Her friend?" Beckett and I said at the same time.

"Yeah." The super nodded. "The lady who picks up her mail everyday."

"Someone is picking up her mail?" Beckett questioned, a little surprised.

"Yeah, she's got a key to the mailbox, I figured it was a friend, a relative." The super shrugged.

"What does this friend look like?" I asked the super.

"Well dressed, early forties, blonde hair."

I looked at Beckett with a small grin on my face and saw the look on her face.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I said.

"Melissa Talbot."

So my scorned wife theory had some legs to it. I certainly did not crow about it. I was just happy that Beckett had now bought it and there was some evidence to back it up. We asked the super a couple more questions before we returned to Beckett's car and waited for Melissa to show up. We were parked across the street from the apartment building. From where we were we had a good view of the street.

"The super said he remembered her coming in the hallway around lunchtime." Beckett remarked after she had checked her watch. "It's already past two."

"A threatening letter." I replied. "I'm sitting here thinking what reason would the wife want to intercept Eliska's mail."

I turned away from the window to look at Beckett.

"Maybe she sent her some kind of threatening letter. A 'keep your hands off my man' kind of thing."

I suggested.

Beckett nodded.

"She gets impatient, she confronts her, and then Eliska's dead." Beckett supplied.

"Meanwhile the letter is still en route. So, Talbot's afraid it'll connect them."

"The irony is it never would have connected them." Beckett said. "We don't go through a victim's mail unless there's probable cause and a warrant first."

"Thank you." I said quietly.

"For what?" Beckett asked, looking at me quizzically.

"For using 'irony' correctly. Ever since that Alanis Morrisette song, people use it when they actually mean 'coincidence'." I said. "It drives me crazy."

Beckett smiled. "Yeah, well, it must be your great grammatical influence over me." She joked.

"I may be going but I'm leaving something of me behind."

We smiled at each other but it did not last long because we both realised that this partnership was soon to end. I felt a sadness descend over me and I had to look away. Before I did I noticed the expression on Beckett's face. Despite what we had said last night at the launch party, and the simmering anger that ensured, there was genuine unhappiness there on her face.

"Castle, it's her." Beckett called out, having spotted Melissa walking towards the apartment. "It's Talbot's wife. She's going for the mail."

We got out of the car and crossed the street navigating around the passing cars. We reached the other side of the street. Melissa Talbot had emerged from the apartment and had paused on the side walk and her back turned to us.

"Mrs Talbot?" Beckett called out.

The blonde woman turned around as we approached. Both Beckett and I stopped in our tracks.

"Whoa, you're not the wife. You're the nurse."

The head nurse to be precise.

I was stunned by this revelation and turning to look at Beckett I found she was looking at me and she was just as surprised. Beckett recovered far quicker than I did. She detained the nurse and informed her that she was to be taken back to the precinct because there were a few questions we need to ask her.

XXX

If the nurse looked nervous sitting in the back seat of Beckett's Crown Victoria as we headed back to the precinct it was nothing to what she looked like sitting in the interrogation room. She shed a few tears before Beckett and I headed in to speak to her.

I chose to lean against the door while Beckett at first was standing next to the desk.

"Dr Talbot is a good man." The nurse insisted. "I've worked for him for ten years. I know he had nothing to do with what happened to that lady."

I admired the nurse's loyalty to her employer but I had the feeling that it was misplaced.

"What did he tell you to do?" Beckett asked, as she sat down at the table.

"He kept a little apartment for her where they would meet." the nurse replied. "He gave me a key to the mailbox. He said he'd sent her a cheque. He felt bad about they way things had ended between them and he wanted to give her some money."

Beckett picked up the evidence bag containing the envelope that the nurse had collected from the mailbox at Eliska's apartment. She held it up for the nurse to see.

"Is that's what in here, a cheque?" Beckett said.

"He told me to look for an envelope stamped 'confidential', with an address from New Jesery from his brokerage account." The nurse replied. "He wanted me to get the cheque so no one would be able to the two of them together, that's all."

I eased off the door and walked over to the table, standing beside Beckett but looking at the nurse.

"You were helping him to cover up the affair." I said to her.

"It doesn't mean he killed her."

"When you told us he worked late at the office that day, were you telling the truth?" I asked.

"He didn't stay late that night." The nurse confessed. "He left at six."

Beckett got the nurse's statement down on paper before she released her. On her way out of the interrogation room she once again insisted that Dr Talbot did not kill Eliska. Like I said before I admired her loyalty.

Beckett and I returned to her desk. Beckett sat down at her desk and got onto her computer while I stood behind looking over her shoulder. We trying to see if we could find a brokerage firm in New Jersey to try and confirm part of the nurse's story. It took a few minutes to call up the information we needed.

"So the envelope came from an office park in Paramus." Beckett said, clicking her desk mouse.

"Is there a, uh, brokerage firm of some kind there?" I asked.

"Trueway Insurance, Chromo Diagnostic Lab Systems, Branby Financial Group." Beckett said, reading off her computer screen. "That would be where the cheque came from if Talbot was telling the truth."

"I've got a feeling he wasn't telling the truth about the affair with Eliska." I mused aloud. "He's hiding something."

Over breakfast this morning I had been thinking over the case, only because I wanted to take my mind off what had occurred at the party last night so I concentrated on the case instead. I thought back to what Dr Talbot had told us when we had spoken to him in his office. I tried to recall his reactions as well as what he had told us. He had been slightly nervous and anxious. In light of what the nurse had just told us I now knew he was hiding something.

"The answer is in here." Beckett said, holding up the evidence bag with the envelope.

"How long before the warrant comes through and we can open it?" I asked.

"A couple of hours, at least." Beckett replied as she set aside the evidence bag.

Ryan and Esposito entered the bullpen and headed for Beckett's desk. She saw them approaching.

"Hey, did you find the mom who filed the complaint?" she asked.

"Found her, talked to her." Esposito replied.

Ryan said that it went down pretty much the way the incident report had said. It turned out that the reason that the mom first noticed Eliska hanging around the playground was that the mom thought Eliska looked familiar. As it happened, the mom and Eliska were both in the same post delivery ward in hospital.

"Yeah, both babies were born on the same day." Esposito added, expressing surprise. "You believe that? Both boys, too."

My spidey sense started tingling.

"Did she happen to mention what hospital?" I asked.

"Yeah, Bryant General, why?" Esposito replied.

I looked down at Beckett, who had turned to look up at me. "Bryant General, where Dr Talbot works." I said.

"What are you onto, Castle?" Beckett asked, looking curious.

"I'm not sure, but I wonder...If we look into it, we're going to find that the Talbot boy was born at Bryant General on the same day as well." I mused aloud. I looked over to the boys. "Would you check that for me?"

Both Ryan and Esposito nodded their heads and moved off. I had no right to issue orders to Ryan or Esposito, and on any other day Beckett would have come down hard on me but she had seen the look on my face and could see that I was onto something, so she let it slide.

"Did you say that there was a lab at that office?" I asked nodding to Beckett's computer screen.

"Yeah. Chromo Diagnostic Lab Systems." She said.

My face brightened a little as I looked at her.

"I think I know what's in that envelope." I announced.

Having told Beckett that she, naturally enough wanted to know what theory I had in my head. I told her what I was thinking. She nodded her head as I unfolded the theory in my storyteller way and smiled at the end. She liked what I had said.

While we waited for the warrant to come through Beckett started digging a little more. I offered to sweet talk the clerk at the court house to see if things could be expedited. Beckett told me to knock myself out.

I think Beckett with her experience with judicial bureaucracy did not think I had much chance cutting through the normal red tape but was happy to see me give it a try. I was feeling confident when I picked up my phone and made the call. When the Richard Castle charm is turned all the way to up eleven few people can resist. The clerk at the court house that spoke to turned out to be a fan. The promise of a signed copy of _Heat Wave_ seemed to do the trick. Half an hour after making the call the warrant came through.

Beckett looked at me with disbelief when she held a copy of the warrant. I tried not to look smug.

XXX

Beckett and I escorted a confused looking Melissa Talbot and a silent but nervous looking Dr Talbot into the interview lounge. A minute after the warrant had come through, we opened the envelope and saw what it contained. Another minute later Beckett was on the phone requesting that both Talbots come down to the precinct as soon as possible, in other words, right away.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused." Melissa Talbot said. "We want to help you in any way that we can, but we already told you, we barely knew the woman. She'd only been working in the building a few months."

Beckett closed the door we had come through and started moving towards the second door.

"As it turns out, your paths crossed long before you realised." Beckett said as she closed the second door and then went and closed the third door. She turned to look at the Talbots.

I have to admit that I rather liked the way Beckett did this. She does have a flare for the dramatic, to tease out the suspense when she wants to.

"Eliska Sokol had a son who was born in the same hospital on the same day as your boy, Zane." Beckett said.

I looked over at Dr Talbot. He looked a little paler than when he did before entering the room. He did not look at me. I got the impression that he was beginning to realise that the jig was up.

"He passed away three years ago." I informed Melissa. "He died of Niemann-Pick syndrome. It's a rare congenital disorder."

"Oh my God. That poor woman." Melissa said shocked. "That's probably why she was so attentive to Zane, they were the same age."

"Actually, we think there was more to it than that." Beckett informed her as she walked over to the table and set her portfolio down.

We did not think, we knew.

"How so?" Melissa asked.

"The incident with the candy that you told us about..." I said. "We think she gave it to him to distract him, so she could swab his mouth."

"Swab his mouth? What for?" Melissa looked confused.

"She was trying to get a DNA test done." Beckett informed her.

"Why would she...I mean, I don't..."

"We got a warrant for Eliska's mail." Beckett continued. "Just before she was killed, she sent two mouth swabs to a mail order lab in New Jersey."

"One of them was your son's. The other was her's." I added.

Beckett held up the document from the lab that we had found on opening up the envelope.

"These are the results." She said.

I had been watching Dr Talbot and I saw that he gone very pale, his eyes had been darting about not able to hold anyone's gaze. For the first time since we all had come into the interview lounge he finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Melissa." He said in a low voice. "I'm sorry."

Talbot said that when the amnio had come back, he did not know how to tell his wife. He knew that she would see it through no matter what the test had said. He decided to put off telling her and deal with the problem after the baby was born.

Melissa turned to her husband not comprehending what he had said.

"Cameron, I don't understand what you're saying."

"Niemann-Pick. Our baby had Niemann-Pick." Dr Talbot informed his wife.

"No. Zane is fine. What are you talking about?"

Dr Talbot said that there was no treatment and it's usually fatal by age three. He said he did not even think he could get away with it until he had gone to the nursery to check on the bay. Melissa was still in recovery at the time. The two babies were there side by side in their cribs. The thought came to him as he looked at the babies. 'How hard would it be? No one would suspect. They all knew him at the hospital, saw him practically everyday, they would not suspect anything. He could change the charts later. At that moment he just changed the tags picked up and brought him to where Melissa was, and everything would be all right. He'd be theirs and she would never know.

A look of horror crossed Melissa's face as she listened to her husband's confession.

"Cameron, please tell me you didn't kill that woman." she said, shocked. "Please God tell me you didn't kill that woman."

Talbot did not respond to her pleading.

"Oh, my God, oh my God." she gasped.

Melissa turned and walked away from her husband. Talbot moved from where he leaning and took a couple of steps towards her.

"I couldn't let her destroy our lives. I couldn't let her take him away." Dr Talbot said.

"What am I going to do?" Melissa said tearfully as she stared into space. Please, someone tell me. What am I supposed to do?"

It was a painful scene to witness and I really felt for Melissa. I did not know what to do or say. Her world had suddenly been tipped upside down and she was floundering. Beckett walked over to Dr Talbot and formally placed him under arrest then passed him over to a uniform who had been waiting outside the interview lounge. Then she swiftly went over to Melissa Talbot and consoled her. I decided to leave them to it and headed out to let the boys know what had happened.

XXX

It only took an hour in the interrogation room for Beckett to get the full story out of Dr Cameron Talbot. He was formally charged with the murder of Eliska Sokol, processed and dispatched to Central Booking. With that all done Beckett and I stopped by Captain Montgomery's office to brief him on the outcome of the case. He had been at a meeting at 1Police Plaza for most of the afternoon.

"After Talbot dumped Eliska's body, he grabbed her keys and went back to her apartment to get rid of anything else that connected the two of them. That's when he found the paperwork for the lab." Beckett informed Captain Montgomery.

"Nice detective work, you two." Captain Montgomery replied.

"Actually, sir, it's Eliska who deserves the credit for the detective work." Beckett said.

I nodded my head in agreement.

"The way we figure it," I jumped in. "She got the job at the hospital cleaning crew solely to get access to the birth records. She made it her mission to find the truth."

"Even if it cost her her life?" Captain Montgomery questioned. "Seems pointless, somehow."

"Maybe not."

I caught the look on Beckett's face when she said that. Immediately I knew she was up to something, or at least that she had thought of something that would provide something good out of this sad case.

After leaving the captain's office a couple of minutes later Beckett strode to her desk with a determined step. There was no way she would walk to her desk that way to get started on the paperwork. I was right when she made the first phone call. Paperwork would have to wait for another day. I went and made her coffee.

Mid morning next day Beckett and I were standing in the hallway of the Talbot's apartment. This was as a result of the couple of calls Beckett had made the night before. Standing with us was nervous looking Teodor Hajek. Beckett had spoken to a servant and the came to where Teodor and I was standing.

"My hands, they shaking." Teodor said, showing us his obviously trembling hands.

"It'll be okay." Beckett assured him. "We told Mrs Talbot that you have no intention of taking Zane away. She knows that you just want to be a part of his life."

Hajek nodded his head.

A door down the hallway opened and Melissa emerged and slowly walked over to us. She put a smile of greeting on her face to hide her nervousness.

"Hello." She said, holding out her hand.

"Mrs Talbot." Hajek replied as he shook her hand.

"Please call me Melissa." She said. "Won't you come in?"

Melissa started walking to the door she came out of. Hajek stood there looking even more nervous than just five minutes before. I encouraged him forward with a slight wave of my hand and a gentle smile on my lips. He smiled briefly, nodded his head and slowly followed Melissa.

Hajek hesitantly entered the living room and slowly came to a halt. Young Zane Talbot was on the floor just behind a chair playing with a train set. Hajek stared at the child for some moments, almost as if he could not believe this was true. That he was staring at his son. Beckett and I were hanging back by the door watching silently. We exchanged happy smiles.

"He's beautiful." Hajek breathed.

Slowly he walked over and sat down on the couch near Melissa.

"Yes, he is." She agreed. "Tell me about him, my son. What was he like?"

"He was a beautiful boy, too." Hajek told her. He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He pulled out the photograph that he had shown us in the interrogation room. He passed to Melissa the photograph. Melissa stared at the photograph, more to the point she was staring at her son.

"Mama?"

Zane had gotten up from the floor and approached his mother.

"Yes, baby?"

"The wheel came off my train."

He held in his hands the pieces of his toy train which had broken.

"Oh." Melissa did not know what to do with the broken toy.

"Give me." Hajek offered holding out his hand.

Zane gave the broken toy to Hajek. Hajek looked at the two pieces for a moment and he nodded his head. The next moment he slotted the wheels back into their bracket. He rolled the repaired wheels and they turned effortlessly. He smiled at Zane.

"There. All fixed."

Zane took the toy train back then returned to the floor to resume playing again.

Beckett and I looked at each other and smiled again. This was going well and our presence was no longer needed. We left Melissa and Zane and Teodor to themselves and headed out.

I was feeling rather good at this good deed, and I could see that Beckett shared that feeling. We had managed to re unite a father with his son. This happy feeling did not last long.

Beckett and I were walking down the stairs to the lobby. On reaching the lobby Beckett stopped and turned to look at me.

"Thank you, Castle." Beckett said. "I, uh...I never would have been able to solve this case without your help."

You could have hit me full in the face with a snow shovel and I would not have been more stunned than right at that moment. Did I just hear Beckett thanking me, and more to the point did I just hear her say that she would not have been able to solve the case without my help?

In all the time I had been with her helping on cases I could not recall a time where I actually heard her say that she would not been able to a solve a case without my help. There have been times when she acknowledged my contributions in her own way but never once had she ever come out and said it.

This might surprise you but I did not know what to say to that. I must have looked like a fish out of water thankfully Beckett continued talking.

"Well...uh...good luck with your new book." Beckett said with a smile. "I know you'll do it proud."

"Thanks." I replied.

We stood there staring at each other, both of us suddenly at a loss for words. We had come to the end of the road and I had nothing to say? Actually, I had a whole lot of things to say but at that moment they were all spinning around in my head unable to reach my tongue. Beckett too looked confused and uncertain, and perhaps a little unhappy. It looked like she wanted to say something but was unable to. Rather than let this awkward moment become even more awkward I held out my hand. Beckett looked down at my hand regarding it for a moment before she took it and we shook hands.

"You take care of yourself. And..."

I was interrupted by my phone suddenly coming to life. I fished it out of my pocket.

"My agent." I informed Beckett.

Beckett's phone started to ring.

"It's the station." she said, having checked the caller ID

For some moments we looked at each other letting the phones ring.

"I...you know, you better get that." Beckett stammered.

"Yeah."

Beckett and answered her call and stepped away. I answered my phone.

"Hey, Paula!" I said cheerfully.

Paula wasted little time in social pleasantries. She hit me some very good news.

"Really?" I said in surprise. I looked across to Beckett. "First day _Heat Wave _sales, through the roof."

"Oh! I'm hold for Captain Montgomery." Beckett replied.

I listened to what Paula was telling me.

"Reviews are raves." I said excitedly.

"Yes!" Beckett gave me a smile and a thumbs up sign. Then she was talking to the captain. "Yes, captain."

"Would I be interested in doing three more Nikki Heats?" I said.

"Yes, I'm aware the mayor is facing a tough re-election this year." Beckett said.

I thought I was hearing things. "I'm sorry, how much?" I asked Paula.

"No, I...I would love to help the department out in any way I could." Beckett told the captain.

What Paula told me next, really knocked my socks off. My eyes nearly fell out of my head. I was being offered more than a king's ransom, several kings and a few queens and a couple of oil rich sultans ransoms to be exact to write three more Nikki Heat novels. Actually, I might be exaggerating a little there but in all seriousness I was being offered a considerable fortune, more than I had ever been offered to write Derrick Storm.

"No, no. Forget about the other offer. For that kind of money, I'll do a dozen Nikki Heats." I practically shouted down the line.

"He wants me to what?" Beckett said raising her voice to her captain.

"Oh, well that was kind of a one time only situation with her and me." I told Paula as I looked over to Beckett. There was a different kind of emotion displayed on her face. It was one I had seen a few times before. Most recently just the other night. Anger.

"Three books?" Beckett said. "That would take forever."

"You already spoke to the mayor?" I said to Paula. That piece of news did not really surprise me. This was Paula after all. She is like a perfumed steamroller.

Beckett glared at me. "I'm going to kill you." She said. Suddenly realising she was still on the phone she spoke to the captain. "No, no, no, no, sir, I wasn't talking to you. I...uh..."

"Okay." I said.

"No need to thank me, sir, I am happy to help His Honour out in any way I can." Beckett said with resignation. She hung up and approached me. I could see she was warming up the Beckett Death Glare.

"Uh-huh, Y...you know what? I think I'm going to...O...okay Paula. I'm going to...I'll call you. I'll call you back." I stammered and quickly hung up the phone. Beckett was glaring.

"I had nothing to do with that phone call." I told her.

It did not look like she believed me.

There may have been a time when I would have done something along those lines. Come to think about it, it was not all that long ago I had done just that. I had called the mayor to get me to tag along with Beckett. This time I was totally innocent. I was, really.

Beckett was right in my personal space, glaring at me. I could not help but notice the perfume she was wearing. A little understated aroma that I found rather appealing. It had not escaped my notice that she had been wearing perfume on more and more occasions lately. I would have remarked upon it but I don't think that Beckett would have appreciated it, especially when she was entertaining thoughts of hurting me.

I was spared being hurt by an angry looking Beckett by the ringing of her phone.

"What!" She snapped at the caller. "Okay...I'll be right there."

She rang off, gave me a glance before turning on her heels and started walking through the lobby towards the entrance.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"That was Esposito, there's been a murder." Beckett replied.

She stopped walking and slowly turned to face me. Her face was a stone-like mask.

"Are you coming or what?" She said.

I was surprised at the invitation. My legs started moving before my brain gave them the command and I jogged and caught up to her. We walked together to the front entrance.

"Do you really expect me to believe you had nothing to do with that phone call?" Beckett questioned.

"I swear, I had nothing to do with it." I replied.

"Swear a little harder, Castle."

"I really swear."

"I don't believe you."

We bickered when we got into Beckett's car and continued to bicker all the way to the crime scene. I have to tell you that I enjoyed myself and I suspect despite that mask on her face, Beckett enjoyed it too. I caught her out smiling a couple of times.

I have been asked many times by people when I have told them about being offered to write James Bond if I regret turning down the offer. I always tell them I have no regrets. In my early years when I was this hot young writer I secretly hoped that I would get the offer to write a James Bond novel. I had a filing cabinet full of short stories and novel length stories and countless ideas that could be turned into a proper novel about the suave British secret agent. But I have no regrets. Derrick Storm came along and took over my life and I took over his.

Then after Derrick my life was changed completely when a certain Detective Kate Beckett walked into my life and Detective Nikki Heat was born. As much as I would like to write about James Bond I was born to tell Nikki's story. Besides, the Nikki Heat on paper and her inspiration in real life are far better looking and considerably more exciting. But then I would say that, I'm biased.

XXXXX

_**There you have it the end of another case from Castle's Files. I hope you liked it. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought of it.**_

_**There will be a pause for a couple of weeks in the Case Files while I concentrate on some other stories. I promise this story will return.**_

_**Con **_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The Case of Vampire Weekend

Part 1

Halloween is one my favourite times of the year. It has always been ever since I can remember. The tricking and treating, allowing all that creepiness and ghoulishness to run free on this one day of they year. This one day of the year I can let my ghoulish imagination to have its head. One of the highlights of the Castle Social Calendar is my Halloween party. Ever since I had become a successful author I have been hosting the Castle Halloween Party.

On this particular day I was trying on costumes from the vast collection I had. Oh, did I mention that the annual Castle Halloween Party is a costume party? It is. As I was saying I was trying on costumes for the party and not liking any of the ones I had tried on so far for one reason or another; I'd worn it last year, I couldn't fit in to it, the wrong theme; so on and so forth.

Then I found it. My space cowboy costume! I had gotten it the year Josh Wheadon had released that great sci fi western. I think one of life's great tragedies was that some pencil pusher bean counter at Fox decided to cancel the show only after one series. I digress...

The costume had been a hit that year I wore it to my party. I was told by many people that I had more than a passing resemblance to the actor who played the title role of the youthful looking ruggedly handsome Captain Mal Reynolds. I was more than happy to accept such compliments even though I could not see any resemblance.

I tried on the costume and much to my delight I found that it still fit. I even managed to find the gun and leather holster that was part of the outfit. I burst out of my office and into the living room with the gun drawn like Captain Mal bursting into some saloon. I suddenly pulled up short when I noticed my darling daughter sitting on the couch reading. She turned to look at me.

"Hey." She said.

"Hey. I was...I was just trying on my Halloween costume." I said, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under my daughter's steady gaze.

"What exactly are you supposed to be?"

"Space cowboy." I announced proudly.

Alexis regarded me with a frown and then she rolled her eyes at me.

"Okay. A, there are no cows in space." She said.

I had to go an raise a logical daughter. I swear sometimes I do wonder if is truly mine.

"B, didn't you wear that, like five years ago?" She added.

Trust my daughter to remember that. Logical and a mind like an elephant. I got a little defensive at her reaction.

"So?" I retorted.

"So, don't you think you should move on?"

"I like it." I countered. I really did like this costume and the moment I had laid eyes on it I knew that this would be the costume I would be wearing to the Halloween party. "What are you doing up so late, anyway?" If you're losing an argument with your logical daughter with the mind of an elephant the wisest course of action is to change the subject. Which I did.

"Halloween homework. _The Pit And The Pendulum. _The original _Saw._" Alexis explained.

I nodded and smiled. One of my favourite books by my favourite author. I've lost the number of times I have read this book by Edgar Alan Poe over the years but if I was to be pressed for an answer I would say it would be in triple figures

"Have you decided what you're going to dress up this year?" I asked. "Perhaps Indira Gandhi? Amelia Earhart? Oh, Hermione?"

I holstered the gun and made my way over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I reached for the tub of chocolate ice scream, then a table spoon and made my way to the couch.

"I think I'm going to skip it."

I could not believe what I was hearing.

"Skip Halloween?" I exclaimed as I sat down at the end of the couch.

"Well dressing up." Alexis clarified. "I'll still hand out candy at the door, but I'm too old to go trick or treating anymore. You know how we feel when the big kids come. I don't want to be that kid."

"But you have to come." I whined. Yes, I whined like an unhappy little kid. "You are my candy beard."

"Sorry, Dad, you're going to have to get another beard."

I would have but the problem was that I did not have anyone else. Alexis had always been my wingman on these trick or treat forays on Halloween. You have no idea what a cute little red head dressed in a ballerina costume, or a cute little red head dressed as Glinda the Good Witch of the North can generate in candy. There was one year that I can recall I was weighed down with some much candy I almost needed a truck to carry it home. I also seem to recall being sick to the stomach after engorging myself with all that candy.

"This discussion is not over." I announced. I nodded over to Alexis' school project that was nesting comfortably on a cushion beside Alexis, the parenting project egg.

"So have you come up with a name for your parenting project baby egg yet?" I asked. "Wait! Let me guess. Zac Eggfron?"

Alexis screwed up her face and shook her head quickly.

No, Egg Begley Junior?" I suggested.

"I went Dickensian." Alexis offered. "Paige and I are calling him Feggin. Get it?"

"Feggin?"

"Fake Baby Egg."

"Wouldn't that be 'Fa-keg'?" I suggested.

Further discussion about a suitable name for Alexis' egg child was halted by the ringing of my phone. A smile rose to my face when I saw the caller ID.

"Beckett, what are you doing up so late?" I inquired on answering the call. "Can't sleep because you can't get me out of your thoughts perhaps?"

There was a note of amusement in Beckett's dulcet voice when she retorted by saying I should keep dreaming. I responded that I did, every single night. I'm sad to report that Beckett brought the flirting to an abrupt halt with the news that a body had dropped and did I want in. I couldn't get out of the loft fast enough when she added that the body had been found in a cemetery.

XXX

I met Beckett at the front gates to the cemetery. She had only beaten me by a couple of minutes when I was getting out of the cab. She took a look at what I was wearing but made no comment except a quirk of an eyebrow. There was a uniform standing at the gates and he told us where the body was located. Beckett and I headed into the cemetery.

It was pretty dark as we walked, luckily Beckett had a flashlight. In the distance I could see the bright flood lights illuminating the area where the body lay.

"I just love this time of the year." I remarked. "Crunchy leaves underfoot, the crisp, clean air, smell of jack-o-lanterns all aflame."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't say that if you were a cop." Beckett replied.

I shot a glance in her direction.

"Halloween is one of the worst weeks for us." She added.

"Hmm. So, the body is already in a graveyard." I mused. "Somebody is trying to save some time.

I looked about as we headed towards the bright lights. I could not contain the feeling of excitement that was bubbling within me. The spookiness of the place, the ghostly shadows given off by the statuary.

"I do love walking through cemeteries." I said as I looked about at the passing headstones. "I love the stories."

I noticed a large headstone which had a statue of an angle atop.

"Check out this one." I said pointing to the grave that had caught my eye. "Elizabeth Dryden, December 3rd 1962 to question mark? If they don't even know when she died, what's buried here?"

At the time I said that I had no idea what significance Elizabeth Dryden would have to the case.

We continued making our way to the murder scene. Beckett glanced at me. The curiosity she had when she first saw me step out of the cab dressed as Captain Mal and which she had tried to suppress finally got the better of her and she had to ask.

"Are you wearing suspenders?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah." I replied, grinning. "I'm trying on costumes for my annual Halloween party. Costumes are mandatory."

I had invited Beckett, the boys, Lanie and a few others from the precinct to the Castle Halloween Party, and I was rather excited about that. The boys had already told me that they would not miss my party for the world and were looking forward to it. I think they were only coming for the free booze and to check out some of the babes that would be gracing the party with their presence.

Beckett on the other hand had not said one way or the other whether she would be attending which gave me a little cause for concern but as it was early days yet I was not too perturbed. I will admit that my fertile imagination had been picturing what outfit she was going to turn up in. Stripper cop and slutty nurse were two costumes that featured very prominently.

We reached the scene to find the boys already at work. Dr Lanie Parish was crouching beside the body.

"What's the story, guys?" Beckett asked.

Lanie looked up at Beckett. "Take a look." Then she moved aside.

"Ouch." I exclaimed loudly as I stared down at the body.

"Are you kidding me?" Beckett said with just as much surprise. "Is that a stake in his heart?"

The body of a young man lay slumped at the foot of a large stone grave. On the top of the grave there was a patch of blood. What was extremely noticeable was the large wooden stake protruding from out of his chest.

"Looks like Buffy is visiting the Big Apple." I remarked turning to look at Beckett.

"Someone thought he was a vampire." Beckett remarked.

"So did he." Lanie said as she pointed to the victim's open mouth.

The case was getting more interesting the minute, I thought to myself. The victim had fangs, pretty good ones from what I could see from where I was standing.

"And they're not plastic pop-ins either." Lanie remarked.

"Are you telling me those are real?" Beckett said incredulously.

"Or high-end veneers." Lanie suggested.

"Or he's a vampire." I added.

I felt that I had to put it out there for consideration. I got blank looks from Lanie and the boys and a roll of the eyes from Beckett for my troubles.

"No ID, no phone." Esposito said, ignoring my suggestion. "We have guys sweeping the area for anything they can find."

"No witnesses either." Ryan added.

"Looks like he struggled." Lanie said pointing to the stone. "I'm thinking he hit his head on this stone or someone knocked him on the head before he was stabbed."

"Who would go to the trouble of killing someone in that way?" Beckett questioned.

"Lycans." I offered helpfully. "They're been at war with the vampires ever since Lucian was murdered in the 15th centu..." My voice trailed off at the blank looks I was getting from the guys.

"Again, this is just a theory." I added in a low voice.

Again Beckett gave me a roll of her hazel eyes but added a shake of her head. I could not be sure if this was a result of exasperation, awe at the brilliance of the theory I had just espoused, or simple amusement at my antics. It was too dark to tell. I like to think it was because of my brilliant theory.

Lanie and her people had a bit of a job trying to zip up the body once it had been placed in a bag until they gave up trying and hauled it away to the morgue.

Beckett, the boys and I hung around the scene for a little while longer to see what could be found in regards to evidence, signs of struggle and any other thing that might help the investigation. Then Beckett called it a night, or more to the point, an early morning.

XXX

Early the following morning I got picked up by Beckett and we headed to the morgue to see if Lanie had any information for us about the body. I was a little eager to view the body with the stake poking out of its chest that I went on ahead of Beckett who had paused to take a call.

I burst through the door in time to see Lanie wrapping her hands around the stake in readiness to pull it out.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" I shouted at Lanie, rushing towards her.

Lanie turned towards me fixing me with a glare.

"What is wrong?" She demanded.

"If he's a vampire and you pull that out, he comes back to light." I said with a bit of concern.

"If he does, then we can go home early." Lanie shot back.

Beckett had joined me just as Lanie yanked out the stake. I could not help but cringe at the action. Beckett too cringed just a little. Lanie set the stake onto a tray.

"Any idea who he is?" Beckett inquired.

"He's human and the fangs are veneers." Lanie informed us. "But he has two fresh avulsions near the femoral artery."

"Bite marks on his thigh?" I said with some surprise.

"And I found these on his body." Lanie passed over an evidence bag to Beckett containing some fibres.

"They're synthetic." Lanie added. "Your killer was wearing a wig."

"It can't be easy to drive a stake through someone's chest." Beckett remarked as she studied the body.

"To break the rib cage, you'd have to pound it in with a rock." Lanie said.

My attention had been drawn to the stake. I grabbed a latex glove on the table beside the tray and used it to pick the stake and examine it a little closer. I found something interesting.

"Someone didn't wash their hands before the stabbing." I remarked. I turned to Beckett. "Check out these black smudges."

Beckett took the tray that held the stake from me and used the glove to lift the stake to inspect it a little closer.

"You know, have CSU run the stake." Beckett said to Lanie. She passed the stake with the tray over to Lanie. "Any match on the vic's prints?"

"Nothing in the system. No hits with Missing Persons. No ID." Lanie reported.

"But he has professional veneers." I pointed out.

"Yeah, so?" Lanie replied.

" I know the best fang master in the city.." I announced. "Maybe he can identify him."

"Fang master?" Beckett questioned, unable to hide the incredulous look on her face, her eyebrows just itching to shoot upwards.

I grinned and nodded my head in response. I got a roll of her eyes.

XXX

I was more than a little excited as we approached The Phantasmagorium. Beckett cast a glance in my direction noting the expression on my face but remained silent. The Phantasmagorium is one of those places where fantasies are allowed free reign. All manner of costumes can be bought or hired, and if you can't find what you're looking for then they can make it for you. But it's not just a fancy dress costume place, there is a tattoo parlour in a corner of the shop, and if you're a Goth then this place is your Nirvana. The various fetish communities are well catered here, especially the vampire fetish community.

I broke into a big smile when we entered the place. I've lost count the number of times I have visited here. I noticed Beckett looked about her as we headed for the counter.

"I hope this is for real, Castle." Beckett warned me. "Because if it's not , we're short changing our John Doe."

"Oh trust me. I can't believe you've never heard of this place." I replied. "I get all my costumes here."

At least for the last five years, maybe a little longer, I had been coming here to get my costumes. Prior to that I had used Mother's contacts in the theatre world to obtain my costumes. It is absolutely amazing what a theatre costume designer can whip in next to no time. Then I found this place and I have never looked back.

A thought occurred to me just as we neared the front counter.

"We can use this opportunity to find you one for my Halloween party." I announced eagerly.

I spotted a particular costume that Beckett might wear. At least I hoped she might wear. I reached over and picked it up from the display stand to show her.

"How about a slutty nurse?" I asked hopefully.

Beckett took a look at the PVC white nurse's uniform that I was showing her and rolled her eyes.

"Fantasize all you want, Castle. I am not trying on costumes for you."

Yeah, alright, I will admit that I was entertaining the thought that Beckett would try on a few costumes that I would help pick out for her. The slutty nurse's uniform being one of them, as well as the stripper cop one that I had also spotted. Beckett can be a real party pooper some times.

"No? Why not?" I said, a little dejectedly. I suddenly brightened. "You already got one?"

"Who says I'm even coming to your party?" Beckett said dismissively.

Further discussion about whether Beckett was coming to my party or not was terminated when she rang the service bell on the counter. I was a little deflated at the thought that she might not want to come to my party. I was really hoping that she would come.

There was a doorway just behind the counter which was covered with a curtain. A few moments after the ringing of the service bell, the curtains parted and a man of average height aged in his early fifties and dressed in a white doctor's jacket appeared. On seeing me be broke into a smile.

"Richard Castle. Change your mind?" He said. "I'd love to fit you with a nice set of doubles."

"Official police business today, Doc." I replied with a grin.

I glanced at Beckett. "Detective Beckett, I would like to introduce you to Dr Barry Frank, dental genius and fang master extraordinaire." I announced.

Dr Frank was indeed a very good dentist who for reasons of his own decided to give up up his very lucrative dental practice down town to become a part owner of The Phantasmagorium as well as set a dental practice here. He also had a profitable sideline working in Hollywood, doing specialist fang work.

"He did, uh, Brad Pitt's veneers for _Interview With A Vampire."_ I added.

"So, what can I do for your? The fang master is in." Doc Frank asked with a slight bow.

"We're investigating a homicide and our victim had some work done." Beckett explained. "We were hoping you could help identify him."

Beckett opened her portfolio and pulled out a photograph of the John Doe and passed it over to Doc Frank. He looked at the photograph and frowned.

"Oh, that's Crow." He said sadly. "I did his veneers about, I don't know, two months ago."

"Crow?" Beckett said.

"Well, people in the vampire fetish community, they give up their mundane names." I explained to her. "You're not going to find any Daves or Chucks or Megs here."

"He seemed like a nice kid. What happened?" Doc Frank asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Beckett replied. "We're hoping you would have a legal name or a billing address."

"Sure." Doc Frank nodded. "Just let me look it up."

"Thank you."

Doc Frank turned from the counter and disappeared behind the curtain where he kept his office.

My attention had been drawn to a pair of pop in fangs and I could not help myself, I simply had to try them on. I had my back to Beckett as I was doing it.

"Castle, what are you doing?" Beckett demanded.

I turned around and bared the teeth at her.

"Do these make me look immortal?" I inquired.

Beckett gave me a look.

"Do you want to, uh, go get something pierced?" I said as my eyes travelled suggestively down to her chest, lingered appreciatively before returning to her face.

"No." Beckett retorted. She did the same with her gaze but her eyes did not stop at my chest, they travelled lower, way lower. "Do you?"

"Uh, wow." I muttered.

The thought of getting pierced 'down there' had me crossing my legs, figuratively speaking. I like to think I am adventurous and will try a great number of things but I kind of draw the line at piercings and tattoos. This might affect my street cred but there you have it. Beckett was amused at my reaction.

Doc Frank returned to the counter with an address for Crow.

XXX

Armed with Crow's address Beckett and I departed from The Phantasmagorium and set out for apartment. On the drive over I pestered Beckett about what costume she was going to wear to my Halloween party. Beckett returned with comeback that she had not said that she was going to come. Every time she said that I whined a little and told her that she had to come to the party. I had to give Beckett credit, she easily resisted my interrogation. Either I was losing my touch or I was up against a superior being.

The apartment building was located in one of the less salubrious parts of town and the building itself was pretty run down on the outside with the windows boarded up. The local graffiti artists had provided some questionable artwork out the front. Our first impression was that this must have been the wrong address, that this place was uninhabited.

Well first impression proved incorrect. The door was answered by a a frumpy looking woman whose face told of a story of a hard life. The lady was Alma and she was the land lady of this building.

Alma, took the news of Crow's death with a sad frown that almost mirrored the expression and sentiment that the fang master, Doc Frank had expressed. She then reined in her emotions and escorted us up to Crow's apartment and let us in.

"This is Matthew's apartment." Alma announced.

Yeah, we also learned his real name, thanks to Alma.

"You'd think he'd be trouble , but Matthew was a quiet kid." She added.

Crow's apartment turned out to be a single room of average size. It was a dark almost gloomy, like something from one of those cheap horror movies that seemed to be churned out by Hollywood. What immediately struck us were all the paintings, sketches and drawings that hung on the walls. There were others laying on a table and elsewhere.

"Had you heard or seen anything unusual lately?" Beckett asked, as she inspected the room.

"The vampire thing was a little weird." Alma replied from her spot by the door. "But my first husband was a Civil War re-enactor, so you tell me, which is weirder?" Alma shrugged.

I inspected the drawings and paintings on the wall closely. There was a dark theme running through most of what I saw. The other thing that I noticed was that Crow had a bit of talent.

"He was quite the artist." I remarked.

"Yeah but mostly comic books." Alma pointed out.

"Reminds me of early Frank Miller." I mused.

"Which Frank?" Beckett said. "Epic Comic or Dark Horse?"

I turned around and looked across the room and stared at Beckett.

"Oh my God." I gasped. "That is the sexist thing I ever heard you say. I had no idea you were interested in comic books.

If Beckett had stepped up to me and in her dulcet voice whispered in my ear: _'Take me to bed right now, Castle.' _I don't think I would have been more surprised. Kate Beckett was a comic book geek. This was incredible. No, not a comic book geek, a comic book connoisseur. Some one who knew her stuff when it came to comic books. I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. I was impressed!

"Oh, Castle, the things you don't know about me could fill a book." Beckett replied with a small grin before she turned her attention to the table in the middle of the room.

I had filled one book about her already and I had a contract to write three more at least. I was determined to find out as much as I could about Kate Beckett. What I did not realise at that moment in time was that it was going to become my life's mission.

Gathering my wits about me, a task that was not all that easy after having learned something new about Beckett, I continued looking around and I caught sight of a large black sketch book that was laying on a side table. I opened it and flipped through a couple of pages.

"Hmmm, check this out." I said as I moved across the room to show Beckett. "He was developing a graphic novel."

Beckett took a look at some of the pages I showed her.

"He's talented." She remarked. I could not help but agree with her assessment. Beckett looked over to Alma.

"Did Crow ever talk about his family?" She asked.

Alma shrugged. "Well, he never mentioned any." Alma said. "I just figured he was pretty much on his own, a loner."

Beckett's attention moved back to the table she picked an A-4 size folder.

"Looks like he went to the Baker School of Design." She said. Opening the folder she inspected the contents. "There's only a partial social, but we should be able to track down his next of kin through the school."

"He ever have any friends or visitors to the apartment?" I asked Alma.

"He brought a girl here once or twice." Alma replied. "She was one of them. You could see them when she smiled." Alma indicated with her fingers, fangs, in response to the look I gave her.

"They did have a big fight the other night." Alma continued. "She was screaming bloody murder."

"What did she look like?" Beckett asked.

"Uh, she had long black hair down to her tush." Alma said.

"Long Black hair?" Beckett repeated.

"Yeah."

"Did you get a name?"

"No." Alma shook her head. "He told me that she was famous or something. Uh, he said she had her own website on the internet."

"We could check his browser history." I suggested and motioning to the the computer.

I fired up the computer but unfortunately access was password protected. I should have realised that it would have been too easy if we could get to check the browser history that quickly. Beckett ordered me to shut it down and carry it down to the car and we would drop it off at Tech services on our way back to the precinct.

XXXXX

_**As per usual let me know what you think of this effort by dropping me a line with your thoughts.**_

_**Con **_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The Case of Vampire Weekend

Part 2

Tech services came through in the middle of the afternoon. When we had appeared at Tech services with the computer we had found Beckett was informed by the Techie that they were a little bit backed up with work and it might take some time to get around to Crow's computer. I half expected Beckett to reveal her displeasure at this piece of news. However Beckett did not resort to displeasure, instead she revealed a different weapon, a far more lethal weapon.

The Beckett Smile.

You would be surprised how effective a weapon the Beckett smile is. A geeky tech guy is powerless against it. Come to think about, I can be powerless to it as well at times. Anyway, Beckett unleashed the Beckett Smile and geeky tech guy almost fell over himself in promising to get the information to her as fast as he could.

I remarked to her as we were heading out that she did not play fair. Beckett in response merely smirked triumphantly.

So it was the middle of the afternoon when we got Crow's browser history. We were sitting around Ryan's computer as he typed in a couple of websites. Beckett was standing beside him. Ryan was our self appointed expert on computer and audio visual matters. The third website he tried came up trumps. The girl with the long black hair down to her tush was called Mistress Vixen.

For a moment we all studied Mistress Vixen's website.

"Do you think they're real?" I asked as I looked at photograph of Mistress Vixen baring her fangs in an aggressive pose. Feeling Beckett's eyes on me, I quickly added: "The fangs I mean."

In the photograph Mistress Vixen was dressed in a black strapless number that enhanced her 'assets'.

"Vampire Mistress Vixen." Ryan read off the screen. "Her coven is called the Den of Iniquity."

"Coven?" Esposito ventured.

"Yeah, a vampire coven is like joining a church or club." Ryan explained. "You like to play golf? I like to play golf. You like to drink blood? I like to drink blood."

That last piece of information had all of us turning our eyes from the computer screen and focusing on Ryan. It appears that Ryan had been keeping a little secret from his partners. A rather astonishing little secret I might add, if our reactions to it was anything to go by. Ryan saw our stunned looks.

"What?" Ryan said and shrugged. "I used to go out with a girl who was into the lifestyle."

"What happened?" Esposito asked. "The relationship suck?"

"Oh!" I muttered and reached across the table to feed the birds with Esposito who was chuckling, impressed with his little joke.

"Deal breaker," Ryan continued, ignoring his partner's remark. "she wanted to have sex in a coffin. I'm open minded but I'm not that open minded."

That last remark of Ryan's brought a little guffawing from Esposito and myself.

"Alright, does our mistress of the night have a phone number or address?" Beckett asked, drawing the schoolboy humour to a halt with her unamused school teacher tone of voice.

"Only an email. However, there's information on the coven's next gathering, which meets tonight." Ryan informed us. He used the mouse to click onto the link and found a password box pop up on the screen.

"Damn. You need a password." Ryan muttered unhappily.

"Or an old girlfriend." Esposito suggested, amusement never far from the surface.

Ryan laughed nervously as he found all of us staring at him again.

"Hey, whoa. I haven't seen her in, like a year." He protested.

Without taking her eyes off him Beckett reached down and picked up Ryan's cell phone from off the desk and passed it to him. Ryan frowned considerably as he took the phone from her.

"Fine." He muttered. "But I'm not sleeping with her."

XXX

Ryan's ex-girlfriend came through with an address for the coven meeting. It was an address Up Town.

It was nearing the witching hour when Beckett and I arrived at the address that we had been given. Getting out of the car we stared up at the four storey warehouse building. To look at the place the immediate thought that leaped into your head was that the place looked abandoned. However, that was an incorrect assumption because music was wafting out and there was a line of people waiting to be let in to the basement.

The two bouncers at the door saw Beckett and I bypass the line and march up to the entrance. They automatically held up their hands to prevent access. Beckett held up her access all areas pass so they could get a good look at her badge. The bouncers dropped their hands and shifted aside allowing us to go through.

The Den of Iniquity was more a club than a coven. The first thing I noticed was that the place was bathed in red light, it was the kind you find on the bridge of a warship or submarine at night when the nightlights are on to protect one's night vision. But I had great doubts that none of the occupants in this place would ever be found on a warship, at least not in the current garb they were wearing. For a moment I thought I had stepped onto the set of _Interview With A Vampire_. There were so many fanged individuals milling about, some were dancing, others were on couches making out, at least they looked like they were making out.

Beckett strode through the place on the look out for Mistress Vixen and I was close on her heels. She was accosted by a wannabe vampire but one look from her had him, at least I thought it was him, scurrying back to the rock he had crawled out of. I on the other hand was accosted by several female wannabe vampires. I managed to extricate myself without offending them and quickly caught up with Beckett.

Beckett had come to a halt or I should say that he progress had been halted by a vampire wannabe he seemed to be acting like some door bitch. His face was covered in white make up and around his eyes were surrounded by Kohl. He reminded me of Michael Keaton in _Beetlejuise _but without the manic expression or the talent. Beckett produced her Access All Areas Pass.

"I'm looking for Vixen." Beckett said.

Wannabe vampire took one look at the badge and then motioned in the direction of a room behind him. He stepped aside and Beckett continued on with me right behind her. This room was pretty much decorated in the same way as the main room and again there was this red light. However this room was a little smaller and there were a number of couches on which there were people.

Beckett walked up to the nearest couch and found a woman stretched out on it she had her arm up. Mistress Vixen was kneeling beside the couch hold the woman's arm with her mouth on the woman's wrist, there were rivulets of blood trickling along the woman's arm. It was plain to see that Mistress Vixen was drinking the woman's blood.

It's one thing to see such a scene on TV or on the big screen but I have to tell you it is a little disconcerting to see it in real life.

Glancing up from feasting on the woman's wrist Mistress Vixen released the wrist looked up at us and bared her fangs like some angry feline. This display of aggression did not impress Beckett. Once more she produced her Access All Areas Pass and told Miss Vixen she had some questions for her.

Mistress Vixen languidly rose to her feet to her feet glanced at the badge that Beckett was holding and motioned us to follow us. Miss Vixen moved towards a less crowded part of the room.

"We're sanguinarians." Miss Vixen informed us.

We had not asked but she must have felt the need to explain, probably because of the looks on our faces.

"You're sanguinarians?" I said, then looked to Beckett. "Blood drinkers."

"All our blood play is legal and consensual." Misstress Vixen insisted.

Mistress Vixen reached a couch which was quickly vacated by the current occupants.

"We're not here about the club." Beckett informed her. "Do you know somebody named Matthew Freeman?"

Mistress Vixen look blankly. "Who?"

"Crow." I provided.

"Crow? Yeah, sure, why?" She replied. "Is he in some kind of trouble?"

There was this arrogant and condescending attitude about her as she regarded us. Well, that changed pretty quickly.

"We found him dead in a cemetery." I informed her. I paused to glance at Beckett before turning to Mistress Vixen. "Someone put a stake through his heart."

Mistress Vixen looked from me to Beckett

"What is this, some kind of joke? 'Let's go make fun of the vampires'?" She scoffed.

"It's not a joke." Beckett said, gently.

Mistress Vixen's face crumbled.

"No way." she gasped. "Who would want to kill Crow like that?"

"We were hoping you could tell us." I said.

"Where were you between 11pm and midnight?" Beckett asked her.

"I was here." Mistress Vixen replied. Then the full implication of the question hit her and she stared back at Beckett. "Wait, you don't think I'm responsible?"

"We found synthetic hairs on his body from a black wig and bite marks on his thighs." I informed her.

"But I didn't kill him." Mistress Vixen insisted. "He was one of my lovers."

"So you saw him yesterday?" Beckett pressed.

Mistress Vixen sank down on a couch. Beckett sat down opposite her.

"Mid afternoon." Mistress Vixen replied. "He left at 3:30. Oh my God. That's awful."

The shock of the news hit her full on and she looked even more pale beneath the pale make up.

"Vixen." Beckett said.

"He's really dead?"

Beckett nodded her head. "We have a witness who told us that you were fighting recently."

Mistress Vixen reined in her emotions and looked at Beckett.

"Yes, because he was seeing someone else. Ultimately, we forgave him." She said. "Yesterday, we were making up. That's why you found my hair on him."

"You said he was seeing someone else." Beckett prompted.

Mistress Vixen nodded her head. She told us that Crow was seeing someone called Daemon. Daemon had fallen in love with Crow and his and had managed to talk Crow into writing a graphic novel.

"That's why he's dead." She added. "Their graphic novel, _Blood Everlasting_, is about a vampire in New York City, only the guy they were basing it on was real and dangerous."

"A real vampire?" I asked.

"He thinks, he is. He's name's Morgan Lockerby. He was an original member of this coven, but something happened to him. He lost all hold of reality." Mistress Vixen informed us. "He started believing that this was real. And now he only comes out at night and hangs out at the cemetery. It was just crazy."

I looked over to Beckett and exchanged a look. So this Morgan Lockerby, who thought he was a real life vampire and frequented the cemetery, looked like he had just become suspect number one on our list. That is basically what we silently said in that exchange. At least that is what I was thinking.

"How do we find this Lockerby?" Beckett asked as she turned her attention to Mistress Vixen.

"He's homeless, but Daemon probably knows."

"Daemon have a last name?" I asked.

Mistress Vixen regarded me with the same kind of expression which she had originally greeted us.

"I don't know his real name." she said. "He was Crow's boyfriend, not mine."

Mistress Vixen was not able to provide any more information so Beckett wound up the interview and rose to her feet. I let Beckett lead the way out and made sure to keep close to her, very close. It's not that I don't mind being accosted by females, it happens to me almost every other day, but being accosted by females with veneer fangs eager to put the bite on me? No thanks.

We managed to get out of the club without too much trouble. Beckett called it a night and dropped me off home.

XXX

The following morning Beckett and I were heading to her desk. We had met downstairs in the lobby of the precinct and had come up together on the elevator. We resumed the discussion we had started on the ride back from the Den of Iniquity about why people dress up and act like vampires.

"You know, what is it with these people and their dressing up like vampires, the coven, the drama?" Beckett asked.

We reached her desk and sat down in our chairs.

"Well, it's not about the costumes or the make up." I replied. "A lot of people who are committed to the fantasy are a little different. They're just looking for a place to fit in."

"Okay, that I get." Beckett replied. "It's just this whole fascination with the macabre, the drinking of blood, the sharing of blood, the, uh...having sex in coffins."

"Mmm. Psychology 101." I said. Beckett looked at me with a quizzical look on her face.

"They probably had something happen to them when they were younger." I continued. "Maybe they saw their dog get hit by a car, attended an open casket funeral. The loss of a childhood friend...or parent."

I saw an expression of sadness sweep across Beckett's face and she looked away. I continued with what I was saying.

"Some people become vampires and some people...become cops." I said gently.

Beckett turned back to look at me. The sadness that I had seen just moments before had gone.

"Okay, then where did your fascination with the macabre come from?" Beckett challenged. "What happened to you?"

I leaned a little forward in my chair ready to make a reply to the question she had posed to me. At that moment Ryan and Esposito made an appearance and approached Beckett's desk. I was a little relived at their interruption. To be honest I was not quite ready to reveal that part of me just yet. I have admit that I felt just a little uncomfortable. I will tell her because Beckett is the persistent type and she would come back to that question at a later time.

"Yo, the art school registration info?" Esposito said, handing Beckett a file. "Court order came through for Matthew Freeman, aka Crow. His family's in Connecticut. Phone number's there. How'd it go at the club?"

Beckett picked up a folded sheet of paper and held it out to Esposito.

"Uh, Morgan Lockerby. Run him and see what you can find." She told him. "And see if you can find Crow's friend, Daemon."

"Does he have a last name?" Esposito queried as he looked at the unfolded sheet. Ryan looked over his shoulder.

"I'm not even sure that's his real first name." Beckett shrugged.

Esposito and Ryan looked at each other before they both turned their attention to Beckett with expressions of disbelief on their faces.

"What?" Beckett said. "You're detectives. Detect."

I could not help but grin at the boys. "Luck." I wished them.

The boys shrugged their shoulders and silent grumbled as they departed from Beckett's desk. I have to admit I did not envy the job that Beckett had given them but I had every faith in them as did Beckett or she would not have given them the job.

Turning my attention back to Beckett I saw the pensive look on her face as she stared down at the file that Esposito had given her.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Beckett suddenly looked up, a little startled.

"I...I hate this part." She said sadly. "It's the, uh, phone call that changes everything."

"I could stay if you like." I offered.

"Oh, no, thank you." Beckett smiled briefly. "Sometimes it's easier without an audience."

I nodded my head in understanding. I rose from my chair left her to it.

XXX

I was going to go through some of the evidence that had been collected at Crow's apartment but before I could do that I had to step out for a couple of hours to take care of some last minute things

in relation to my Halloween party and when I had returned to the precinct Beckett was in the interview lounge with Crow's family. During the phone call that she had made to them earlier she, no doubt had asked them to come to answer a few questions. I would have liked to have sat in on the meeting but as it had already started I did not want to intrude, so I made myself useful by going the through the evidence that I had promised to do earlier.

I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life for what occurred in the interview lounge with Crow's family.

Janice, Alan and Rosie Freeman were all seated on a couch in the lounge across from Beckett. Alan Freeman was a tall thin man aged in his early fifties with black hair that was starting to grey. His eyes were red rimmed from recent crying. Janice, his wife, was a few years younger than her husband, with blond hair. She was still sobbing. Rosie Freeman was a teen aged somewhere between fifteen to eighteen, she was Crow's sister and her eyes too were red rimmed from recent bouts of crying.

"Mr and Mrs Freeman, do you have any idea who would try to harm your son?" Beckett asked.

"No." Janice sobbed. "Matthew was very private about his life. There was little we knew about his so-called friends."

"Mom." Rosie chided.

"I knew those people were dangerous. I should have stopped him from getting involved." Alan said angrily.

Beckett opened her portfolio and consulted it before she looked up.

"He was registered at the Barker School of Design. Did he ever attend?" She asked.

"No. He...he dropped out." Janice replied.

"And when was the last time you saw Matthew?"

"It's been months since we've seen Matthew. No, it was 'Crow' now."

"He came home, he was dressed in black. He had skull tattoos on his arms, eyeliner on his eyes, fangs." Alan said and then shook his head. "I should have gotten tougher on him."

Janice produced a small photograph of Matthew Freeman and passed it across to Beckett for her to look at.

"See. He was just a normal little boy." Janice said. "And then he fell in love with art. Then he got moody and he started hanging out with these people."

"When did you hear from him last?"Beckett asked.

"He called a couple of days ago and he left a message." Janice said with a sob. "And he sounded upset."

"But we never found out why." Alan Freeman added.

Beckett wound up the interview. She thanked them for having come in and escorted them to the elevator. When the doors had closed she turned around and slowly started making her way to her desk. Esposito joined her.

"Tough one." he remarked.

"Yeah, they're all tough." Beckett replied. "So, you got anything?"

"Yeah, Vixen's alibi checked out. We've been talking to Crow's coven friends and searching through vampire websites. So far, no Daemon." Esposito reported.

Apart from having the boys run down Morgan Lockerby and finding Daemon, the other order Beckett had scribbled on the sheet of paper that she had passed over to Esposito was to check out Mistress Vixen's alibi.

"What about Lockerby?"

Beckett and Esposito had reached Beckett's desk.

"Morgan Lockerby, psychiatric disorder, 35, committed by the state. That's the good news." Esposito said as he passed Beckett the file.

Beckett took a moment to study the photograph of Morgan Lockerby pinned to the cover of the file. It was a photograph of a wild looking man with long hair and a long unkempt beard. She opened the file and quickly skimmed through it..

"Bad news is, he escaped a few years back. Nobody's seen him since." he added.

"Got an address on file?

"No, he's completely off grid." Esposito said. "What's your shadow doing?"

"I don't know. Last time I saw him, he was shifting through evidence from Crow's apartment."

Beckett replied absently as she continued to look through the file.

"So, are you going?"

Beckett looked up from the file.

"To what?" She frowned.

"His Halloween party."

"I don't know. He throws a lot of parties. You?"

"Are you kidding? I'm all over it." Esposito said excitedly.

"What are you going to wear?" Beckett inquired.

"You wanna know, you gotta show to see what I got going on." Esposito told her, giving her a look a he stepped away. He made an overly dramatic gesture with his hands down his body as he left, as if to say my costume is going to knock you out.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head as Esposito departed.

For that little exchange I have to thank Esposito for providing me with the details.

I was reclining in the conference room with my feet on the table. I was totally engrossed with the graphic novel that I was reading. The one that Crow had been writing. As an aficionado of comic books and graphic novels I was really impressed with this one I was reading. It had a great story and the art work was fantastic.

My attention was suddenly distracted by my feet being swept off the conference table and replaced by Beckett's delightful derrière.

"Hot on the case, Castle?" Beckett said, a little playfully I thought.

I quickly sat up. "On the case of a good read." I informed her, showing her Crow's graphic novel.

"Esposito found Morgan Lockerby." Beckett announced and showed me the photograph of Lockerby.

My eyes widened with surprise at the picture. I quickly flipped through the pages of the graphic novel until I found the picture I was looking for.

"You mean Morlock." I announced.

I took the file from Beckett's hands and then compared the photograph of Lockerby with the picture of Morlock. The two were practically identical. Beckett shifted closer towards me so that she could see the two pictures.

"Vixen was right." Beckett said.

My senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the aroma of cherries. For some time now I had been trying to figure what that perfume reminded me of that she wore. As my senses were overwhelmed by that wonderful aroma it hit me. I turned to look at her and found she was close, I mean real close.

"You smell like cherries." I said in a low voice.

Beckett turned her head and was startled to see that she leaning in close to me, real close. She did not pull back which would have been her first response. She seemed to be frozen where she was. I don't know how long it was we sat there staring at each other, it could have been a mere couple of heart beats or it could have been eternity. I wished it was the latter. As I gazed into those beautiful hazel eyes, I saw the startled look that had sprung up but I also saw something else, something far more deeper, something that I had not seen before. Something that both startled and excited me.

We were so close that we could breathe in each other's breaths. I could feel the heat of her body and she mine. My heart started racing in a way it hadn't in a very long time, I'm sure she could have heard its loud pounding. Just another inch or so and our lips would have joined.

"Hey we got a hit on the..." Ryan's voice trailed off.

Suddenly both Beckett and I were jolted back to reality. Beckett stood up immediately brushing the hair from her face and desperately trying not to blush at having been caught out.

"Are we interrupting something?" Esposito inquired, as he looked at us.

"Yes." I said.

"No," Beckett said. Mind you we said it at the same time.

"O-kay." Ryan said.

Both Ryan and Esposito looked suspiciously at us. I guess it did not help our cause that both Beckett and I were trying not to look guilty and not doing a good job of it, like a pair of school kids caught by their teacher.

"Wh...what did you get a hit on?" Beckett said, clearing her throat.

Ryan passed the file he had over to me but Beckett quickly snatched it out of my hands.

"The, uh, prints from the stake in Crow's heart. Your girl Vixen was right." he said.

"Morgan Lockerby." Beckett announced looking at the file.

"Only thing is, he's one of the great un-findables." Esposito said. "No address, no phone number, no trail."

Having been brought back to reality I started focusing on the case. I remembered reading something in the graphic novel. I started flipping through the pages until I found the one I was looking for.

"Maybe not. Here." I announced as I showed Beckett the picture of an abandoned warehouse. "Recognise the corner?"

"That's Broome and Clinton, Lower East Side." Beckett declared.

"I think Crow may have drawn us a road map to Morlock." I suggested.

Beckett ordered all of us to roll. Ryan and Esposito turned and headed out. I rose slowly from my chair. Beckett started moving for the door but before she moved off I caught sight of her cheeks, there was a light dusting of pinkish red on her cheeks. It had been a while since I made her blush, I thought to myself as I followed her out.

XXXXX

_**Let me know what you thought of this effort by dropping me a line, I'd like to know what you think.**_

_**Con **_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The Case of Vampire Weekend

Part 3

In the car heading to the Lower East Side neither Beckett nor I mentioned that moment in the conference room back at the precinct. And that is what it was a moment. One that I found very hard to erase from my thoughts. Instead I tried to concentrate on Crow's graphic novel which I had brought with me and I think Beckett was silently grateful for that. I could not help but tell her that I thought Crow's graphic novel was good enough to be published. I lamented that potentially he had a great career as a graphic novel artist ahead of him which now, sadly, would never eventuate.

Beckett pulled up near the corner of Broome and Clinton. Ryan and Esposito in the following car pulled up behind us. Getting out of the car I held up the graphic novel at the page where Crow had drawn the derelict warehouse and compared it to the real building across the street. The two were practically identical.

We crossed the street and walked along the side walk towards the entrance to the warehouse. I was in the lead with Beckett a step or two behind me and the boys bringing up the rear. I reached the entrance and started up the steps to the door. Suddenly I got yanked back.

Beckett had grabbed hold of my coat tails and pulled me back. She gave me a look as she took the lead with the boys following her. I was forced to bring up the rear. Drawing their guns, Beckett and the boys opened the door and moved in. I followed them in armed only with Crow's graphic novel.

Inside the warehouse was dark and musty. Beckett and the boys had pulled out their flashlights as we all slowly moved through the place. I was using the graphic novel as a comic book road map as we tried to locate Lockerby.

"It's that way." I said in a whisper and pointing in a particular direction. I had consulted the comic and had found that Crow had drawn the location of Morlock's lair. Beckett nodded and we slowly moved off in the direction I had pointed out.

We walked into a large derelict room just as dark and dank as that of the place from where we had come from. Our progress came to a sudden halt. A short distance away was large ornate wooden coffin. The coffin was surrounded by a series of unlit candles.

"You got to be kidding me." Beckett exclaimed as she stared at the coffin.

"You think he's in there?" Ryan asked nervously.

"It is daytime." Esposito replied. "If he thinks he's a vampire, that's where he'd be."

I came to stand at the front of the coffin. Suddenly I felt three pairs of eyes on me. Looking at Beckett and the boys I quickly realised that they wanted me to open the coffin. Let me just say that I was not all that keen on opening the coffin and was going to protest, to ask why should I be the one to disturb a sleeping vampire. I did not need to ask the question. They were holding the guns and I wasn't, so there was my answer.

"I'll cover you." Beckett told me, pointing her weapon at the coffin.

"Together?" I countered.

Beckett considered the compromise and quickly nodded her head.

"Alright." She said. "On three."

"Okay."

I stepped up to my end of the coffin as Beckett moved up to her end. We looked at each other for a moment.

"One...two...three." Beckett and I said in unison.

With my heart in my mouth we raised up the lid of the coffin. I let out a little gasp of surprise as I jumped back with my arms flailing about. If you speak to either Esposito or Ryan they will swear on a stack of Bibles that I let out a girly shriek in that moment the coffin lid was lifted. I maintain that it was a gasp of surprise. But I digress...

There was no sleeping vampire nestled in the coffin. In fact there was nothing in the coffin but dirt. I let out a sigh of relief. I will admit that I was half expecting to find Lockerby/Morlock stretched out there.

"You see him jump?" Ryan chuckled.

"Real macho, Castle." Esposito said with a shake of his head.

I laughed with some relief as I took another step back from the coffin. The next moment all hell broke loose. And yes, in this moment I will confess there might have been a girly shriek that escaped from my mouth.

Something or someone dropped from the roof and grabbed me around then neck. The force of the impact made me fall to the ground as I heard loud growling. I also heard shouts from Beckett and the boys.

Panic rose within me as I struggled to protect myself whilst at the same time trying to throw off who ever had tackled me. I felt like I was struggling with a wild animal, and boy it certainly smelled like a wild animal. The pungent aroma was enough to knock me out.

I felt a sharp bite on my neck and I let out a yelp of pain. The flaring off pain in my neck made me fight even harder to get this wild thing off me. My entanglement with Morlock did not last all that long but let me tell you it certainly felt like forever. We rolled on the floor into a patch of sunlight that came through a hole in some window.

Esposito and Ryan pulled Morlock off me.

"He bit me!" I exclaimed, clutching the side of my neck where Morlock's teeth found their mark.

Suddenly Morlock let out a pained cry and hurriedly covered his face. All of us stared in shock as smoke began to rise from his exposed skin. It started to blister horribly.

"He is a vampire!" Esposito said in shock.

While I was about to have a full on panic attack, Beckett took charge of the situation, ordering the boys to move Morlock away from the shaft of direct sunlight. That was enough to quieten Morlock and allow the cuffs to be placed on him, and that was my cue to have that panic attack.

Beckett told me not to be a baby and that I was not going to turn into a vampire. I came back with the retort along the lines of how would she know that, she was not the one who had been bitten. My my head was spinning with the possibility of immortality and living the rest of my days walking the night and sleeping during the day. Something that I was not unfamiliar with, I was a writer after all.

I also had to find a suitably comfortable coffin. I might have said all of this aloud much to the amusement of Beckett and the boys.

Beckett managed to sooth my panicked disposition by taking a quick look at the bite mark Morlock had left on my neck. At first I would not let her to take a look but being told to stop acting like a baby I finally relented, removed my hand from the bite mark and allowed Beckett to take a look. That was quite some love bite I had there, she remarked with amusement dancing in her eyes. On seeing my panicked expression she assured me that Morlock had not drawn blood so I was not going to turn into a vampire.

Getting Morlock back to the precinct also proved a little problematical until Beckett suggested to the boys that one of them get a blanket from their car and cover him. Ryan was dispatched to get the said blanket.

On the ride back to the precinct I returned to the possibility of turning into a vampire. I must have kept up such a running commentary that Beckett pulled out her phone and called Lanie asking her to meet us at the precinct. That managed to quieten me down a little.

XXX

Lanie was waiting for us on our arrival and she took me into the break room and took a quick look at my neck. I told her that I was going to turn into a vampire. This remark was met with the trademark Lanie Parish unimpressed glare. She diagnosed the bite as non life threatening and then gave me a healthy dose of antibiotics. With me taken care of she went over to holding to examine Morlock.

Beckett, the boys and I were standing in the hallway outside of holding when Lanie, having finished her examination of Morlock came to join us.

"He's not a vampire." She declared.

"But his skin burned when the light hit him." Esposito replied.

"He has porphyria, some people call it the 'vampire disease'" Lanie explained. "Its symptoms include extreme photosensitivity. The skin blisters when it's exposed to the sun. Victims are prone to hallucinations, paranoia..."

"That explains the psych diagnosis." Beckett mused.

"Exactly how contagious is it?" I asked, still feeling a little worried. I might not turn into a vampire but I might catch porphyria. Lanie looked at me.

"It's a genetic disease." She said. "Besides, I put enough antibiotics on that bite to kill a small animal."

That is true it was a pretty big needle she had produced from her not so little doctor's bag she had brought with her.

"Now, if we're done here, I got to head back to the slab and see a man about a corpse." Lanie added.

"Thank you, Dr Parish." Beckett said. "Castle was totally freaked out."

"You want to bite me, you buy me dinner." I shot back.

An amused look appeared on Beckett's face but it did not last long. She slowly made her way into the holding cell area and walked up to the cell where Morlock was in. I remained where I was standing but I had a good view of the cell.

Morlock was kneeling on the floor in the middle of the cell. He was rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently to himself.

"Mr Lockerby." Beckett said. She got no response to that name. "Morlock, do you know somebody named, Crow?"

"You heartless bitch!" Morlock screamed. "Spots all over...s...spots all over."

"Were you in the cemetery with Crow?" Beckett asked gently.

"Blood all over! Blood all over!" Morlock screamed.

"There's been a murder, Mr Lockerby. Do you understand that?" Beckett persisted. "Were you in the cemetery with Crow? We found a wooden stake with your fingerprints all over it."

"The cat creeps in to kill the bird." Morlock muttered. "I should have buried you then, wicket boy. I should have buried you then. Damn it, I didn't see him. I didn't see him. I didn't see..."

Morlock was not making any sense as he babbled as he continued to rock back and forth. Beckett gave up trying to question him. There was a small frown on her face when she returned to where I was standing. The public defender showed up just about this time. Beckett motioned the woman to Morlock's cell.

XXX

After leaving the holding cell area Beckett and I headed back to her desk.

"I don't want to tell the public defender how to do her job." I said. "But, I'm going to say that the insanity plea might be appropriate."

"Maybe the state psychiatrist can help make sense out of Morlock's rantings before they take him away." Beckett suggested.

Her phone started ringing and she quickly answered it. "Beckett...Okay...thanks." She had a frown on her face as she put the phone down and then sat down. I sat down in my chair looking at her.

"That was the lab." She informed me. "They were calling me to tell me that the smudge on the stake was India ink."

I nodded my head.

"Morlock must have gotten some on his hands going through a dumpster." She suggested.

"India ink?" I queried.

"Yeah, why?"

I leaned a little closer to Beckett.

"India ink, or Chinese ink, has been used since the fourth century BC, when it was called 'masi'." I explained. "It's water resistant, so it wont smudge when coloured over. It's also the ink used by letterers in comic books."

That little lecture had Beckett looking interested.

"So, if Crow was the illustrator..." I said.

"Then Crow's friend Daemon was the letterer." Beckett jumped in. "But what would the ink be doing on the stake?"

"What indeed?" I mused.

Beckett looked away from me and focused her attention across the way to where Ryan and Esposito were sitting.

"You guys, where are we on the friend?" Beckett called out.

"We're working on it." Esposito replied.

"Yeah, well, could you work a little faster?"

"Hey, Castle," Ryan said, looking over. "You want to help?"

As much as I would have loved to roll up the sleeves and give the boys a bit of help I had elsewhere to be. I checked my watch and saw that I was not far off being running late. I got to my feet.

"I would love to." I told Ryan, looking anything but apologetic. I grinned at Beckett. "But I have got bigger pumpkins to carve."

Beckett gave me a smile in return as I headed for the elevator.

I arrived home to find the kitchen had suddenly become a pumpkin patch with several rather large pumpkins sitting on the counter. My darling daughter could not wait for my return home so had started the preparations for another one of the Castle Family traditions. The carving of the jack-o-lanterns. We have been doing this ever since she was about four or five.

Quickly I dashed into my room to change and returned about ten minutes later suitably attired for carving of pumpkins. I will admit that I did inspect the bite mark again, just to make sure. On my return to the kitchen I found that Alexis had already scooped out several pumpkins and was carving out a face on one.

Selecting an already scooped out pumpkin I took it aside. I picked up a marker pen and paused as I stared at the pumpkin before me. My first thought had been to carve out the traditional scary face you find on jack-o-lanterns but in the next moment I decided against it. One, it was too boring, and two my darling daughter was doing the traditional style. Suddenly I was struck with a bolt of inspiration. I attacked the side of my pumpkin with the marker pen and about ten minutes later I had drawn the picture that I would carve out. With that task completed I picked up the battery operated carving drill and commenced my work.

Half an hour or so later Alexis asked about my artistic efforts.

"How's your Nosferatu coming?" She siad.

"The key to a good jack-o-lantern is understanding negative space." I replied.

"It's not what's there, it's what's not there."

"I have taught you well, grasshopper." I beamed.

Mother entered stage right dressed in what looked like a flapper dress circa late 1920s.

"Ah" What are my two pumpkin-masters carving for this year's party?" She inquired as she approached.

"I'm carving the traditional jacko-o-lantern, Mr Scary Pumpkin Face." Alexis informed her.

"Oh." Mother said,

"And I am carving Max Schreck in his role of Count Orlok." I said, showing her the result of my artistic endeavours.

"Dad's a little vampire-obsessed because of his case." Alexis remarked.

"Mm-mmm" Mother murmured.

"Or maybe it's because of his bite." Alexis added.

I let out a gasp of shock and slapped my hand over the bite mark that Morlock had given me.

I had told Alexis about my little run in with Morlock and that he bit me. My darling, caring daughter had remarked that we had better stock up on garlic and wooden stakes, just in case.

"I swear, you have missed your calling." Martha remarked as she had inspected my handiwork.

"I don't even know why you bother to write." She added. I was not sure if that remark was said in gest or a genuine comment on my carving abilities.

"You want to carve with us?" Alexis offered.

"Oh, I can't. I'm off to a masquerade ball." Mother replied. "Perhaps, I'll meet my Gatsby."

Mother opened the jacket she was wearing to reveal the red flapper dress she was wearing.

"Whoa! Mother, I'm surprised." I said, grinning. "You still fit in your prom dress."

Mother narrowed her eyes in my direction and gave me a playful slap on the arm. She leaned on the bench to look at Alexis.

"Have you asked him yet?" She asked in a conspiritorial voice.

"I was waiting for the right moment." Alexis replied, a little nervously.

"Ask me what?" I inquired, leaning towards them.

"Paige and I got invited to a party tomorrow night, the night before Halloween, by seniors." Alexis informed me.

"By your grandmother's friends?" I said, looking a little confused.

"No Dad, 12th graders. But it'll be supervised." Alexis said.

I turned my gaze from my darling daughter to Mother.

"This is one of those crossroads moments, isn't it?" I asked her.

I looked anything but enthusiastic at the thought. I had been dreading when this day would come. To be honest, my first thought was to issue an emphatic 'no'. I had been a twelfth grader once, and I know what they are like and what they are thinking. It conjures up images a father of a teenage daughter does not want to see much less think about.

"Oh, let her go." Mother announced. "She's far more responsible than you were."

Well, that was stating the obvious. On the plus side I had raised Alexis to be responsible, to know right from wrong. So despite my fatherly apprehensions I decided to let Alexis go to this party.

"Yes, you can go." I announced. Then I fixed a fatherly look on my face as I looked at her. "But if anything happens that makes you feel uncomfortable, anything at all, you call me, I don't care what it is. And there'll be no punishments, no incriminations, I promise, just as long as you call."

What I did not tell her but was certainly thinking, was if anything did happen then she would not be attending another such party until she was thirty-five years old. Alexis did not need to know that though.

"Yeah, yeah, I will, I promise." Alexis said happily. "But nothing's going to happen."

The happy smile on my darling daughter's face slipped a little as she looked at me.

"But there's one thing though." She said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

Alexi held up her baby egg.

"Will you watch Feggin?"

"Why is he going to hatch?"

"No, our health teacher says we can't leave him alone." Alexis explained hurriedly. "That's considered egg abuse. And since, Paige and I co-parenting and we're going the party, and her parents are going out, we need a sitter."

I looked at Mother who immediately flung up her arms.

"Oh. No, sorry. Uh, plans." She said immediately.

I'm sure Mother had suddenly remembered that she had plans for tomorrow night just to get out of the job of babysitting Feggin.

"Yeah, okay, sure I'll watch your little egg child." I announced, trying not look put upon. "But I want you to know I'm far too young to be a grandparent."

Alexis smiled as she placed Feggin on the bench near me.

"And if, uh, any of those senior boys, bother you." I said looking earnest as I picked up the drill and held it near my face. "Father wont be quite himself."

I started to cackle with laughter, the kind you hear from those mad scientist types in B-grade science fiction movies from the fifties. Both Alexis and Mother rolled their eyes at my antics.

As I laughed louder and louder something caught in the back of my throat and I started to cough. It was not quite the affect I had been aiming for.

XXX

The following morning Beckett was escorting the state psychiatrist, Dr Holloway from the holding cell area. The doctor had been to see Morlock.

"He mumbles, he shouts, he throws himself against the bars." Beckett said as they made their way to the hallway. "But there's something about it."

"Although someone like Mr Lockerby will present as completely non comos mentis, he could still have moments of lucidity." Dr Holloway replied. "The difficulty is separating the fantasy from the reality."

They came to a halt in the hallway. Beckett opened up her portfolio and pulled out several sketches that had been drawn by Crow. She passed them over to Dr Holloway.

"Well, these were drawn by our victim." Beckett informed him. "I was wondering if they suggested anything about his relationship with Mr Lockerby."

Dr Holloway perused through the sketches quickly, pausing at one sketch or another. The sketches in question were mainly of a woman, in one or two of the sketches the woman was depicted as an angel in the others laying dead.

"I'd have to study them more to give you a diagnosis, but these are more about the woman in the drawings than Lockerby." Dr Holloway replied.

"What do you mean?" Beckett asked, frowning slightly.

"He draws her like angel, but always in the context of an act of violence." Dr Holloway informed her. "Honestly, it looks like to me like the work of someone who was once traumatised."

It was at this moment that I made my appearance and walked up to where Beckett and Dr Holloway were standing in the hallway. As for the above little bit I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life who filled me in on what had transpired during Dr Holloway's meeting with Morlock and the discussion she had with him after the examination of Morlock.

"Ah! Childhood trauma." I announced as I reached Beckett. "What did I tell you?"

Beckett glanced at me and then looked at the doctor.

"Doc Holloway, this is Richard Castle." She said.

I smiled and held out my hand to shake the doctor's hand.

"Dr Holloway." I said.

I was standing behind Beckett's shoulder and I suddenly balanced Feggin on her shoulder.

"Say hello to the nice psychiatrist, Feggin." I said. "Ello."

Dr Holloway stared at me for some moments, a look of disbelief etched on his face as if he did not know how to respond to what I had done. He managed to recover and turned his attention to Beckett.

"I will arrange for someone from Social Services to come get Mr Lockerby." He said. He glanced at me a moment. "And if you want, I can have someone get him too."

Beckett mouthed the words: 'Yes, please.'

Beckett did not think I caught that but I did but I chose not to make comment on that.

Dr Holloway departed. Beckett and I headed into the bullpen and walked to her desk.

"Are you going to eat that?" Beckett asked me.

"Eat my own grandchild?" I retorted. "What am I, a monster?"

"Maybe that bite was catching." Beckett quipped as she sat down. I sat down in my chair.

"It's a school health sciences project." I explained. "Helping de-romanticise having a family before you're ready to take responsibility.

Beckett nodded her head in understanding.

"Alexis and Paige are going to their first senior party tonight. So I'm babysitting, uh, egg-sitting." I added.

It had been my idea to bring Feggin in with me to work. Seeing I was going to be babysitting him later in the evening I thought why not bring him into work with me, so that we could bond a little more. You know, grandfather and egg like. I thought it would be fun.

"Senior party, huh?" Beckett said with a knowing smile.

Beckett had said that in such a way that I was instantly full of concern. The knowing smile on her face did not help matters.

"What?" I asked.

Beckett did not respond to my question as he desk phone started ringing and she reached for it.

"What?" I mouthed to her as she looked at me while listening to the caller.

I was starting to get more than a little worried about having agreed to Alexis going to this Seniors Party. Like I said before I had been a twelfth grader and I can remember what had happened at some of the parties I had attended. However that was a very long time ago, another life time. Beckett too had been a twelfth grader but of a more recent vintage. I did not like the expression that was on her face when I had mentioned about the party Alexis was attending.

The call that Beckett had taken was from Esposito. He was calling to inform her that he and Ryan had been showing a picture of Crow around the neighbourhood. They had managed to get a lead on Crow's friend Daemon. The boys had found the apartment and they had found Daemon laying on the floor of his apartment shot right in the heart. Esposito also reported that the apartment had been tossed. And the final part of his report was to say that Daemon was a werewolf. Yes, that's right a werewolf.

Beckett wrote down the address of Daemon's apartment and rang off. She rose from her chair, telling me what Esposito and Ryan had found. I was on my feet as well. Thoughts about the party that Alexis was attending were put on the backburner.

You must be thinking what I did with Feggin. I'm sure there might be one or two of you maybe thinking I took Feggin to an active crime scene. Well you would be wrong if you're thinking along those lines. I was not about to traumatise Feggin having him witness a dead body. No, I left him sleeping on Beckett's desk.

Beckett and I arrived at Daemon's apartment to find it full of CSU people and people from the ME's office. Ryan and Esposito were there as well. The apartment was on the small side and looked like most student apartments.

Lanie was kneeling on the floor beside the body of Daemon. Sure enough Daemon was a werewolf. He was dressed up as a werewolf and from where I was standing the makeup and costume looked pretty good, would have put some makeup departments in Hollywood to shame.

"Silver bullet?" I asked Lanie.

"No, 9 millimetre." Lanie replied.

"Well, I guess he's not a real werewolf." I concluded.

"Nice. The hairs on his face are synthetic, attached with spirit gum." Lanie reported. "It's a Halloween costume."

I slowly moved towards a table where there some animal bones sitting on it.

"According to his driver's license, Daemon's real name is Jonas Westfall." Esposito reported to Beckett. "He's a graduate student, NYU, Forensic Anthropology."

"Then that explains the bones." I said as I started reaching out to one of the animal skulls sitting on the table.

"Castle, don't touch." Beckett admonished.

"I know." I replied leaving the skull alone.

Ryan walked up to Beckett.

"Canvassed the building." Ryan reported. "A neighbour remembers hearing something the other day, but thought it was a car backfiring."

"The other day?" Beckett queried.

"Based on deterioration and lividity, and the smell of that old Thai food, wolf boy was killed the same day as our vampire." Lanie announced. "I'd say a couple of hours before."

Beckett moved over to the table where the Thai food containers were. She picked up the container and the plastic bag that it came in and passed them over to Ryan.

"Ryan, track down the delivery guy. Find out when this was delivered and whether anyone else was up here when he brought it." Beckett ordered.

Ryan frowned at having been given the dirty job but he kept his thoughts to himself. He nodded to Beckett. He also ignored the smug look on the face of his partner standing close by. Beckett turned back to the table. Rifling through the papers there she found a flyer which she picked up.

"Come as your alter ego." She read from the flyer. "October 27th at 7pm. Our guy was going to this party. Same day Crow was killed."

"I assume there is a connection." Lanie remarked.

I was standing near another table and I was surprised at what I saw on it.

"Hey. India ink." I pointed at the table. "Which means Crow's killer was at the apartment, too."

"But what were they looking for?" Beckett wondered aloud.

Her attention was drawn to a large metal box. She opened the lid and her eyes widened with a little surprised. There were several wooden stakes in that box. She lifted one of the stakes from the box and showed them to me.

"Castle." she called out.

I turned and saw the stake in Beckett's hand.

"Morlock? He comes here, shoots Daemon, grabs the stake, goes off and kills Crow." I theorised.

"And in the struggle, the ink bottle is broken." Beckett added.

"Wasn't Morlock." Lanie insisted with a shake of her head. "This victim was killed during the day. Morlock had porphyria. He would have burnt to a crisp."

I frowned as I thought over what Lanie had said.

"So, if he didn't kill our werewolf..."

"Then chances are he didn't kill our vampire." Beckett said quickly, completing my thoughts.

"Well, then how did the prints get on the stake?"

"Maybe he was trying to help him." Beckett suggested. "Maybe he was trying to save his friend." Beckett looked to Lanie.

"Are you sure about the time of death?" She asked the medical examiner.

"His watch broke when he fell." Lanie replied. She picked up the watch that was beside her. "It says 4:00 October 27th."

"Well, then if it wasn't Morlock, who was it?" Beckett said.

"And what were they looking for?" I added.

Lanie from her position on the floor beside the body she had a good view of the underside of Daemon's drawing close by. She spotted something underneath the table.

"Uh, I don't know what they were looking for, but I think I know what our vic was hiding." Lanie announced as she pointed to the drawing table.

Beckett moved over to the drawing table and crouched down. Peering underneath the table she found an envelope taped to the underside of the table. She reached under and carefully unstuck the envelope. Rising to her feet she showed what she had found.

Could not help but wonder what that envelope contained that Daemon would try to hide it.

XXX

Beckett and I returned from Daemon's apartment and set up shop, so to speak in the conference room. I sat on one side of the table and Beckett was sitting directly opposite. Spread out on the table were many of Crow's sketches and paintings as well as the envelope we had found in Daemon's apartment. I picked up the envelope we had found in the apartment and pulled out the contents.

"So, Jonas Westfall, aka Daemon, was inches away from getting his master's in Forensic Science at NYU." Beckett remarked after reading something in her hand.

"This all looks like part of his research." I remarked looking through the papers. "I went through a bone collecting phase when I was a kid."

This was just the opening Beckett needed to resume questioning me about why I became so fascinated by the macabre and she wasted little time in perusing the matter. Like I have said before, Beckett can be persistent when she puts her mind to it.

"So, what happened to you happened when you were young." Beckett said with a grin as she focused her gaze on me. "What was it, Castle? Did you witness a murder? Or did you skin your knee and it bled?"

I could not help but grin but I was not about to answer he questions. I glanced to the other item that was sitting on the conference table, nestled in a tissue lined little container.

"Hmm, speaking of trauma, I wonder how late Alexis is going to be at her party." I mused aloud looking at Feggin. "Little Feggin is suffering from separation issues."

"Come on, Castle. You know mine." Beckett pressed. "Tit for tat."

I looked across to Beckett and grinned before I turned my focused on the papers from the envelope.

"Just because I've seen your tat, doesn't mean I'm going to show you my..."

Let me just say that at the time that I said that I had not seen her tat. In fact I did not even know that she had one. The 'tat' in question was of course her mother's murder and the affect it had on her. The question of the tat, the ink variety, is a story for another time.

Now, the reason my voice trailed off was because of the papers in my hand. In particular a certain copy of a newspaper article. The article also contained a digitally rendered photo of a woman. A woman that looked familiar.

"Check this out. Uh, it's dated two years ago." I said. "A murdered woman was unearthed in the Pennsylvania woods above Lehigh River late Sunday night. Investigators say she'd been buried in a shallow grave for years." I read from the article.

"And?" Beckett pressed.

"Based on the remains, investigators have attempted a forensic reconstruction of the murdered woman's face." Again I read from the article.

I turned the article around to show Beckett the picture.

"That's the woman from Crows drawings." Beckett declared.

Beckett had confirmed what I had been thinking. She took the article from me and compared the picture with one of Crow's drawings. I picked up the graphic novel and quickly flipped through the pages until I found the one I was looking for. I showed it to Beckett.

"Yet, in the graphic novel, she consistently she appears as the Angel of Death." I pointed out.

"Okay, so Crow became obsessed with Daemon's case study." Beckett said. "Why would they go to this much trouble to hide it?"

"Why would someone kill for it?" I countered.

Beckett frowned a little. She flipped over one of Crow's drawings and caught sight of Crow's signature. What really caught her attention was the date of the drawing.

"Castle." Beckett said. She turned the sheet around and showed me the date.

"Mmm." I murmured.

"These sketches were drawn four years ago." Beckett stated.

"That's not possible." I replied. "The body wasn't discovered until two years ago."

"So, either Crow's is psychic or..."

"Or he knew this woman before she died." I supplied.

Further theorising was put on hold when my phone started reading. I pulled out my phone and answered it. My face broke into a smile on hearing my daughter's voice.

"Hey, Alexis, how you doing? Everything okay?" I said.

The next moment the smile on my face vanished instantly as my daughter told me in a worried tone of voice that things were not okay. She was concerned for Paige, Alexis thought the punch had been spiked and Paige had too much to drink. Alexis was afraid that something might happen to her.

"I'm on my way." I told her.

I flew out of the chair and out of the conference room. The next twenty minutes were the longest of my life. My heart did not leave my mouth. The Universe had taken pity on me because there had been a cab right out the front of the precinct when I flew out the front door. I promised the cab driver a very large tip if he stepped on it. I also had to promise to pay for any ticket he might get. The traffic was pretty heavy and I was getting more anxious by the second the longer it was taking to get the location of the party. We got there in one piece. I told the taxi guy to wait for me as I rushed into the building.

I practically broke down the door to get into the party, and when the door was opened I barrelled my way in. I found Alexis and an almost comatose Paige in one of the bedrooms. I silently offered up a prayer of thanks at finding my darling daughter was not harmed, if a little shaken by this experience. I told her everything was going to be alright. I checked on Paige and though I am not a doctor I did not think she had been drugged. From the looks of things it looked like she had drunk far too much for a girl her age and was suffering the consequences.

I scooped Paige up and with Alexis at my side I passed through the party towards the front door. I did pause to speak to one of the adults that was present and who was supposed to have been supervising and I gave them a piece of my mind in terms and language that I am not going to repeat here but I think you can get the picture. They definitely looked worried. I might have mentioned that I worked at the 12th Precinct during my tirade.

As the loft was closest we took Paige there. Mother opened the front door for us.

"Oh, my God. Is she alright?" Mother asked with concern as I carried Paige over to the living room and set her down on the couch.

"I don't know." Alexis informed her. "She was swapping drinks for kisses, and I tried to pull her away, but she wouldn't let me."

"Would you get me a glass of water?" I asked Mother. Mother nodded and headed for the kitchen.

"Leave me alone, Alexis." Paige muttered.

"Paige." Alexis replied, looking concerned.

"Now, you're sure she hasn't been throwing up or unconscious?" I asked Alexis.

"No, just falling down." Alexis replied.

"Alright." I said as I looked at Alexis. "Call her parents."

Paige suddenly began to talk, or I should say she slurred her works and I could barely understand what she was saying. I looked at Alexis.

"What is she saying?" I asked.

"It's just drunk talk." Alexis explained, and then interpreted. "She says don't call her parents. Just let her sleep over. Do we have to call her parents?"

"We do." I replied. "Get me their number."

"She'll get in so much trouble."

"Less than if you had left her there."

"Please." Alexis begged.

"Now." I said firmly.

If the roles had been reversed I would have gone through the roof if I had not been told about it. Trying to hide it from your parents may be the first course of action a child will want to take, and I should know it was always my first course of action but it is the wrong thing. We parents need to know.

Alexis looked at me before she dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. She opened up her contacts and found the number I wanted. She passed the phone to me. Mother returned with a glass of water and passed it to me. I then handed the water to Alexis.

"Try to get her to drink that." I told Alexis.

I rose from the couch and dialled the number. I will spare you the details of my talk with Paige's parents. I don't want to embarrass her any further. Let's just say it was a long night.

XXXXX

_**Let me know what you thought of this effort by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The Case of Vampire Weekend

Part 4

For the next part of the story I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life.

The following morning Beckett was in the interview lounge with the Freemans. Beckett had called them in and showed them some of Crow's artwork in the hope that they might know who the woman in the drawings was.

"Adora. That's what he called her." Janice said. "We've seen her in Matthew's artwork for years."

"Do you know who she is?" Beckett asked.

"No. We just assumed that she was a figment of his imagination." Alan replied.

"He called her his own personal ghost." Rosie said. "He said she appeared in his dreams and nightmares."

"Well, she's not a figment. She's very real." Beckett passed over to Alan a copy of the article of the woman that had been found at Daemon's apartment. Janice also took a look at it.

"Are you sure you don't recognise her?" Beckett asked. "Because she could be anybody. She could be a teacher, a neighbour."

Janice shook her head. "No, I...I'm certain. We've only seen her in his art."

"Do you know if your son experienced anything traumatic when he was younger?" Beckett asked.

"What do you mean?" Alan inquired and frowned.

Beckett explained to the Freemans that she had shown of the drawings to one of their therapists and the therapist suggested that their son may have witnessed something disturbing or something violent.

Janice shook her head. "I...I really can't think of anything."

"Do you have any of Matthew's earlier drawings of this woman?" Beckett asked.

"No. He took it all with him when he left." Alan said.

"Yeah." Janice added.

"You might want to check the portfolio with his application for Barker." Rosie Freeman suggested. "All the work he cared about, he put in there."

"Thank you, Rosie." Beckett said with a smile. "We will."

Winding up the interview with the Freemans, Beckett thanked them for coming in again and escorted them to the elevator. She then headed to her desk to do some more work on the case.

Beckett was still at her desk an hour so later reading the article about the dead woman's remains having been found. That is where Esposito found her when he came into the bullpen. He walked over to her desk. Beckett was glancing at Feggin when Esposito reached her desk.

"What, no Castle?" He asked.

"Uh, no. He had a late night. What's up?" Beckett replied.

Esposito nodded his head and sank down in my chair and then informed Beckett that he had been talking to the Pennsylvania State Police about Crow's mystery woman and they had told him that he was the second person who had called asking about the case in the last two weeks about the woman they had found in the woods.

"Did they tell you who else called?" Beckett asked him.

"Jonas Westfall."

"Daemon."

"Yep, our werewolf." Esposito added before he resumed briefing Beckett on his talk with the state troopers.

Esposito continued by saying that the state trooper's forensic experts had determined that the woman had died about eighteen years ago from a gunshot wound to the chest from a 9 millimetre handgun, the same as like Daemon. Esposito then thought, what the hell, compare the ballistics. He did and long story short, they were a match.

"Two murders, that many years apart." Beckett mused aloud. "Anything on the mystery woman?"

Esposito shook his head. "Still haven't ID'd her."

"You know, Crow would have been two years old when that woman was killed." Beckett said. "Do you remember anything from when you were that young?"

Ryan appeared carrying the large portfolio of drawings that he had been sent to Barker to pick up.

"Beckett." Ryan called out as he approached.

"Crow's portfolio?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, and there's something you got to see."

Beckett and Esposito rose to their feet and followed Ryan into the conference room where most of the evidence from Crow's apartment was. He opened the portfolio and took out the sketches and set them out on the table. Beckett recognised the picture. She reached over and picked up the newspaper article that showed a photograph of the location of where the remains of the woman's body had been found. In the middle of the photograph was an oddly shaped tree with two main branches. It was almost identical to the sketch that was from Crow's portfolio.

"It's the same tree." Beckett declared. "Just like where the body was found. You don't draw something with that precision from a dream. He's remembering it. Crow witnessed that woman's murder when he was two years old. He had to have been with someone, a sitter or a family member. Or maybe even the killer."

Beckett paused a moment as she thought it over. She looked at the boys.

"Run a background check on the Freemans. Find out where they were living eighteen years ago." She ordered.

"You go it." Esposito replied crisply.

XXX

I had finally made an appearance in the middle of the afternoon. Beckett was not at her desk and I did not know where she was. I sat down in my chair to wait for her and picked up a file and started reading it.

"Hey, Castle." Beckett greeted me. "Alexis okay?"

"She's a smart kid." I replied. I smiled and motioned to Feggin who was still sitting on Beckett's desk in his tissue lined container. "You took care of Feggin."

"Yeah, well, he was easy. He didn't even fuss when I put him to bed." Beckett said with a shy smile.

The smile on my face deepened a little bit more. I have to say that I was deeply touched that Beckett had taken the trouble to look after Feggin. In my rush to get to Alexis last night I had forgotten all about Feggin but then at the time he was the last thing on my mind. Yet Beckett was thoughtful enough to look after him for me. She did not have to but she did.

Once again I could not help but think that Beckett when the time came she would be a fantastic mother. Such thoughts had to be quickly shelved with the arrival of Esposito and Ryan at Beckett's desk.

"Yo. Ready for more tales of the weird and strangely odd?" Esposito announced. On quick nods from Beckett and myself, he resumed. "We looked into the Freeman family history. Freeman is Janice's maiden name. When she and Alan got married, Alan took her name, so did Matthew."

"Well, he's either a feminist or he's hiding something." I remarked.

That was indeed 'strangely odd'. Alan Freeman did not strike me as the feminist type when I caught sight if him.

"What's Alan's original last name?" Beckett asked.

"McGinty." Ryan supplied. "And I think he was hiding something. Alan's first wife, Elizabeth McGinty, went missing from Summit New Jersey, eighteen years ago. She was never found."

Ryan passed to Beckett a copy of the Missing Persons Report. Beckett quickly scanned it. Her face hardened a little.

"Alan lied to us." She said angrily. "He knew exactly who his son was drawing. He was drawing his real mother."

"And Summit is only a couple of hours from where the body was found." Esposito added.

I reached over and took the Missing Persons Report from Beckett and took a look at it myself.

"Elizabeth McGinty, maiden name Dryden." I read out. Suddenly my eyebrows shot up. "Dryden. Elizabeth Dryden!"

"What?" Beckett asked turning to look at me.

"Question mark." I prompted. "Remember what I told you about gravestones telling stories?"

Beckett had instantly had a light bulb moment, so to speak. She nodded her head, remembering the night we had caught the case and were walking through the cemetery heading to the scene of the murder.

Needless to say I suggested a field trip. A suggestion that Beckett was more than happy to agree to. We took Esposito with us. Ryan pouted a little at being at being left behind from this field trip. Matters were not helped when Esposito shot his partner this big smug grin, as if he was saying: 'I get to ride with mom and dad, ha ha'. I don't think Beckett caught sight of that silent exchange on our way out.

I had to reconsider that initial thought the moment we reached Beckett's car. Esposito immediately headed for the shotgun seat, figuring that as he was a cop he should ride up front. I opened my mouth to protest at the usurping of my usual seat in the car. Beckett paused in the open door of her side of the car and shot a look across the roof of the car in Esposito's direction.

"Back seat." She told him crisply.

"But..." Esposito spluttered.

"Back seat." Beckett repeated, her look hardening. "Now."

Esposito closed his mouth and did as he was told jumping into the back seat. I gave him a tight-lipped smile before getting into my usual seat. So Beckett had caught the exchange between Esposito and Ryan up in the bullpen. I should not have been surprised. Yep, definitely would make a fantastic mother. Showed no favourites, and was firm but fair.

On reaching the cemetery Beckett sent Esposito to the cemetery manager's office while Beckett and I searched out the location of the headstone we had stumbled across the other night. It took us a few minutes to find it as we were looking for it in broad daylight and things looked slightly different during the day compared to night time. Eventually we located the headstone.

"Crow came here for a reason." Beckett remarked as she studied the gravestone.

I nodded my head in agreement.

Esposito having finished his interview with cemetery management came and found us.

"The cemetery management said that the family held a memorial service for their daughter about five years after she went missing." Esposito reported.

Beckett nodded her head.

"Daemon must have looked through hundreds of reconstructed faces researching his thesis." Beckett remarked. "I can't imagine the shock when he recognised one as the woman from Crow's drawings."

"And Crow must have realised his family had been lying to him all these years." I added.

"Huh, fresh flowers." Beckett motioned to a small bouquet of white roses lying at the foot of the gravestone.

"Crow brought his father here to confront him with his mother's grave." I theorised.

A thoughtful expression settled on Beckett's face as she considered this theory. After a moment or two she began to nod her head as if she liked what I had put forward. Suddenly A determined glint appeared in her eyes as she spun on her booted heels and marched off. Both Esposito and I had to scurry to catch up with her.

"Esposito, call Ryan and have him send some uniforms to pick up Alan Freeman." Beckett called over her shoulder.

"Got it." Esposito responded. He fell back a couple of paces as he pulled out his phone and made the call.

XXX

A couple of hours later Beckett and I were in the interrogation room. Beckett was seated at the table across from Alan Freeman and his lawyer. I was leaning against the wall beside the two way mirror. Beckett was positively seething as she was preparing for the interrogation. As I have said before, she does not take too kindly being lied to by persons of interest/suspects.

"All these years, you knew your son was drawing his mother, and you never said anything." Beckett said firmly, perhaps even angrily.

"I was protecting my family." Alan insisted.

"You were protecting yourself." Beckett shot back angrily. "You're a cold blooded killer. You killed your wife, and then reported her missing. And then, eighteen years later, when your son found out, you killed him as well."

I had been watching Beckett, preferring to remain quiet while she questioned Alan Freeman. Suddenly I realised why she was going after Freeman like an attack dog. The guy had killed his boy's mother. Crow had lost his mother when he was young. Understanding flooded through me. This was a little personal.

Now you can well imagine how Freeman reacted to being accused of a double murder eighteen years apart. Both he and his lawyer let out gasps of outrage.

"Ah, this..." Freeman said as he looked to his lawyer.

"You don't have to respond to that, Alan." His lawyer advised.

"No, no, no, no. She's accusing me of killing my son." Freeman said to his lawyer. He turned to look at Beckett, glaring at her. "Yes, I lied to Matthew, but I did it to protect him. I thought he was too young to understand."

"You were a suspect." Beckett said.

"Of course I was a suspect. I was her husband." Freeman said angrily. "There wasn't any evidence that tied me to her disappearance, because I had nothing to do with it." He paused a moment to take a breath and calm down before he spoke again. "When Janice and I got married it was like a chance. A chance at a fresh start."

"And so, as soon as you were legally able, you married your nanny." I remarked.

"Janice was there for us during a very dark time in our lives." Freeman said. "We had press on the lawn. There were days without sleep. I was handing out flyers with Lizzy's picture on it. And Janice kept it together and she protected Matthew."

"Then why did you lie to us?" Beckett asked.

"You told us in front of our daughter. What did you want me to do?" Freeman replied. "Tell her everything that she thought was a lie? Rosie adored Matthew. She'd just found out that he'd died. What would you have done?"

"I would have told her the truth." I informed him.

Freeman let out a sigh as if he was considering what I had suggested. A small sad smile appeared on his face as he spoke again. He said that Matthew had been nine years old when he first drew her face and showed it to him. Freeman thought he was looking at the picture of a ghost. He figured that his mother was still somewhere in Matthew's head from his early memories. Freeman sighed again and then said that they had been living the lie for son long that it had become the truth. He could not tell Matthew that Janice was not his mother. H could no tell his son that his real mother had runaway.

"Are we through here, Detective?" The lawyer asked.

"Not by a long shot, Lawson." Beckett snapped. "The Connecticut State Police found a 9 millimetre handgun in your client's home, and I'm just betting that it is the same gun that killed Elizabeth Dryden McGinty and Jonas Westfall."

"No...I..." Freeman protested, looking shocked.

"Don't say anything, Alan." The lawyer warned.

"Oh, yeah, and there's is also this."

Beckett produced a sketch of the woman laying at the foot of the forked tree that Crow had drawn and also a copy of the news article about finding a woman's remains with the photograph of the forked tree. She placed both articles on in the table in front of Freeman so he could see them. She leaned closer to Freeman.

"Your son witnessed his mother's murder." She informed him, with barely suppressed anger.

Freeman stared at the picture and the news article. His face paled.

"No. That's not possible." he gasped. "How...how is this possible?"

XXX

Beckett rose from the table and gathered up the sketch and the news article and shoved them into Crow's portfolio. She then gathered up the other documents that had been on the table and placed them in her own portfolio and then took them with her as she left the interrogation room. She handed Crow's portfolio to the uniform standing guard at the door and thanked him. I followed her as she started to walk away from the interrogation room.

"Excuse me." Janice Freeman called out.

Both Beckett and I turned around and saw Janice approaching us. She and Rosie had been sitting on a bench at the other end of the hallway not far from the interrogation room.

"How much longer are you people going to keep us waiting without letting us know what is going on?" Janice demanded.

"We are trying to find the answers, Mrs Freeman." Beckett replied tiredly.

I did not blame Beckett for being tired. Freeman had not confessed to the killings, and we could not exactly charge him with both murders. We were still waiting on the ballistics on the gun that the State Troopers had found at the Freeman's place.

Janice did not respond to that, she cast a look in our direction before she turned around and started to make her way back to the bench where Rosie was sitting. I watched her depart and that's when I took note of the coat she was wearing. It was a leopard skin coat.

I suddenly had one of those 'what if' moments. I get them a lot when I'm writing a scene and I'm having a little trouble with it, so I will ask myself 'what if' this happens, or what if that happens? In this case I suddenly asked myself, what if Alan Freeman was not the killer? What if it was someone else in the family?

I turned to look at Beckett but she had started to walk away. I quickly dashed up to her.

"Spots." I blurted out.

"What?" Beckett replied, looking confused.

"Spots all over, blood all over. I should have buried you then, you wicked boy." I recited the words that we heard Morlock say the other day when we had brought him in.

Beckett frowned noticeably as she stared at me. She had no idea what I was babbling about.

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

"Morlock's crazy talk." I explained hurriedly. "It's just like Paige's drunk talk. You have to translate it." I pointed in the direction of the holding cells.

"Is Morlock still in holding?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I held up my hand to Beckett motioning her to wait right there as I turned and scurried over to Janice just as she reached Rosie.

"Mrs Freeman, I am sorry this is taking so long." I said solicitously. "But as long as you have to wait, you might as well be comfortable. Have you seen our vending machines?"

At first Janice Freeman gave me a strange look but I quickly turned on the Castle charm and it did not take her long to agree that grabbing a soda might be a good idea. She followed me as I escorted her in the direction of the holding cells. Beckett still looking a little confused followed. She had no idea what I was up to but she trusted me enough to let me run with whatever idea I had.

As we approached the holding cell area the uniform standing guard opened the door at our approach.

"Uh, straight through there." I said to Janice, pointing out the way. "Right, just to the left here."

Janice followed my directions.

"Perfect, right in there. Excellent." I said. "Straight on through."

Janice slowly walked past the cell where Morlock was in. On seeing Janice in her leopard skin coat he let out a scream and leaped at the bars.

"Oh, wrong turn." I muttered, sounding anything but apologetic.

"Heartless bitch!" Morlock screamed at Janice. "Spots murdered the Crow! Murderer! Murderer!"

Janice Freeman backed away from the cell, frightened by Morlock's shouting. I stood behind Janice and held her in place. I leaned down a little.

"What a small world." I remarked coolly.

Having milked the dramatic moment long enough to allow Morlock to accuse Janice of having murdered Crow, I slowly passed a rather frightened Janice over to Beckett who promptly arrested her for murder and then read her her rights. The uniform stepped over and took charge of Janice leading her away. Beckett looked across to where I was standing and regarded me for a moment. Her face broke into a small smile as she nodded her head before she turned and headed out. I took that look she gave me as 'a well done'.

Before I left the holding cells area I looked at Morlock. He had quietened down and stepped away from the bars. He had gone back to kneeling on the floor like he had been previously. Once again he was murmuring to himself but he paused and turned to look up at me.

No words passed between us but there was a moment of lucidity where I thought I saw something in his eyes, something akin to gratitude. I gave him a nod in return before I turned and headed out.

XXX

If I thought Beckett was like an attack dog when she was interrogating Alan Freeman earlier, she was twice as hard on Janice Freeman. For a single heart beat I almost felt sorry for the woman to be on the receiving end of Beckett's questioning. That feeling did not last long. It did not take long for the full story to come out.

Once we had gotten a statement out of Janice she was booked and left in a holding cell in transit for the trip to Central Booking.

Alan and Rosie Freeman had been waiting. Alan was looking bewildered. One moment he was being accused of murder and then the next moment he was being released only to see that his wife arrested for murder. That's enough to do any one's head in.

Beckett and I walked over to where the Freeman's were sitting. By agreement Beckett would speak to Alan by himself and inform him that his wife had been charged with several counts of murder and I would keep Rosie company.

Beckett took Alan into the interview room and broke the news to him. The news shocked and devastated Alan. Beckett rose and got him a cup of coffee.

"Why?" Freeman asked Beckett after she had passed him the coffee and sat down opposite him.

Beckett informed Freeman that Janice had killed his first wife Elizabeth, so that she could have him all to herself. Then Janice had killed Matthew and his friend Daemon so that Freeman would never find out. Matthew did not know who to trust, so he asked Daemon to hide the evidence and that ended up being the smartest thing he had done without even realising it. Janice came to realise that it was only a matter of time before Matthew and Daemon figured out the truth of what she had done. So Janice followed Daemon to his apartment and then shot him with the same gun she had used to kill Elizabeth.

"What about my son?" Freeman asked.

"He was on his way to the cemetery to lay flowers at his mother's grave." Beckett explained. "And when she saw the stakes in Daemon's apartment, she figured that she could lay the blame on the people in your son's life that you already hated."

Freeman nodded his head as he struggled to fight back the tears. He looked across to Beckett.

"She raised him." He said in a low voice. "She was like his mother."

"He was a constant reminder of what she had done." Beckett told him. "And when he turned on her, she wasn't his mother anymore."

I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life for what occurred above.

While Beckett was speaking to Freeman and breaking the news to him I informed Rosie about what Janice had done. At first I was not going to but Rosie had pressed me to tell her what was going on but I realised that she deserved to know. I guess having a daughter around the same age as Rosie, I had some experience in breaking bad news.

It was only much, much later that I realised that Beckett had set it up that way. Smart cookie is our Detective Kate Beckett.

Alan Freeman emerged from the interview lounge with Beckett right beside him. Rosie who had taken the news with shock and a fair amount of tears on seeing her father jumped to her feet and rushed to her father.

"Daddy!" She shouted.

"Oh, sweetie. It's okay." Freeman said as he hugged his sobbing daughter. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

Freeman broke from his daughter's embrace, he nodded to Beckett before he left with his daughter. Beckett and I made our way back to her desk.

"I hope this doesn't destroyer her." I remarked.

"Will for a little while." Beckett replied. "And then one day she'll wake up and it will be just a part of her life."

I nodded my head slowly.

"Who knows, maybe she'll become a writer." Beckett suggested with a grin as we reached her desk.

"Or a cop." I replied.

We sat down. Beckett looked across to me.

"You know, you still haven't told me where your fascination with murder came from." She said.

As I expected she was not going to give up until she got a story. So a story is what I gave her. I paused a moment looking thoughtful before I spoke.

"I was five years. We were summering in the Hamptons." I said, starting off. Glancing at Beckett I saw there was a look of eagerness on her face. "I was pretty much left to my own devices. This one day, I was walking on the beach. I was miles from where I started. I was just about to turn back when I saw something had washed up on the beach."

Beckett was leaning closer to me eager to hear more of the story, a small smile on her face.

"I thought maybe it's a whale or a turtle or a sea lion, so I ran over to see what it was."

"What was it?" Beckett asked, totally drawn in by the story I was spinning.

"It was a boy, my age." I replied.

The smile on Beckett's face vanished instantly.

"He was our housekeeper's son. It must have just happened, because the tide hadn't washed away the blood." I paused a moment. "We had just played hide and go seek the day before."

"What happened to him?" Beckett asked.

"They never found out."

"I'm so sorry, Castle." Beckett said in a low voice.

In all honesty I could have gone on for at least another hour about the story of the body on the beach. I have used variations of that some story to entertain Alexis and her friends when they've had a sleep over at the loft. It might have been fun too, spinning the story further but I decided to bring it to a halt. Beckett had bought it, hook line and sinker. I guess the sad or mournful expression on my face as I was telling her the story might have helped to draw her in. I was staring into the middle distance too.

I waited a moment and then another, then the sad look on my face slowly began to transform and a small smile swept across it as I looked over to Beckett. She looked stunned when she realised that I had fooled her. That I had been spinning a story.

"You made that up?" Beckett said with disbelief.

"It's what I do!" I laughed.

"You know what?" Beckett said glaring at me. "You are so getting it for that."

I continued to laugh as I got to my feet and started moving away from her desk. I was not going to take the chance of Beckett coming after me and doing only God knew what just to get back to me for that little story that had fooled her.

"The party is at nine o'clock." I informed her. "I cannot wait to see what you're wearing."

Beckett glared at me as I quickly beat a hasty retreat.

I can't help it but I do rather enjoy pushing Beckett's buttons just to see what response I will get. As I got into the elevator I began to wonder what kind of costume she would show up at the party in.

XXX

I arrived at the loft to find the caterers I had hired for the evening starting to set up. They were the ones I usually used for my parties, especially for my Halloween parties and they had yet to let me down. Also the decorations had been put up and I have to admit they looked rather great. There were severed heads and hands here and there, spiders and cobwebs, candles and cauldrons, so on and so forth. I said a quick hello to the guys before I disappeared into my room and proceeded to get ready for the party.

I had changed my mind about going to my party as the space cowboy, Captain Mal. As much as I loved the costume I realised that what Alexis had said was true. I had worn it before at a previous Halloween party and it was time that I moved on. There was the added thing that Beckett had already seen the costume that night when we had gone to the murder scene at the cemetery.

It did not take me all that long to find another costume and the moment I saw it, I knew it was one the one for me.

I burst out of the room in a flourish dressed in none other than my favourite author, Edgar Allen Poe, complete with a moustache. My excitement being dressed as Poe was diminished considerably when I spotted my darling daughter sitting on the couch dressed in her pyjamas listening to an ipod. It had been a long time since I had seen Alexis looking so misreable.

"Hey, you...you're not in your costume." I pointed out.

"I'm going to stay upstairs." Alexis replied as she pulled the ear buds out. "Not really in the party mood."

I grabbed a nearby chair and sat down close to her. My face was creased with deep concern.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Paige was so angry with me, she sabotaged our science project." Alexis said, sniffling back the tears. "She killed Feggin. She said it was an accident, but I know she did it on purpose to get back at me."

"Oh, that is so wrong on so many levels." I said in a low voice.

"How could she take care of him the way we did, and then just destroy him?" Alexis said looking at me, almost with a pleading looking.

I wished I could give her an answer but sadly I didn't have one.

"I don't know." I told her truthfully. "I think that...is the reason why I write about it. The way some people behave just bewilders me."

It did. It does. More so now since I have been following Beckett and helping her out with the murder cases that she investigates. I'm still bewildered about how people act the way they do. I shoved those thoughts aside as I looked at my darling daughter.

"I'll tell you this though." I told her with a small smile. "There is nothing you could do that would stop me from protecting you or supporting you."

Alexis's face broke into a smile. "Even if I get a D in science?"

"Even if you get an F."

Alexis smiled even more. I rose from the chair and moved to where Alexis was sitting and gave her a big hug. With my free hand I reached into the pocket of the coat I was wearing and from the supply I kept there, removed a small hairy looking plastic spider and placed it on her shoulder. I pulled back from the hug.

"Now, go get changed." I told her. "The goblins and ghouls shall be arriving soon."

Alexis nodded her head.

As I started walking away I pointed to Alexis's shoulder.

"You got a spider on you." I said.

I could not help but laugh at my darling daughter's loud shriek as she flicked off the fake spider.

The ghouls and goblins arrived at the appointed time of nine o'clock and the party started jumping almost from the beginning. Ryan and Esposito arrived in costume. Ryan was dressed in scrubs and a white doctor's coat that was smeared with fake blood. Esposito came dressed as a soldier in full combat gear. What I did not realise at the time was that it was no costume from some costume hire place. That was a real combat kit which Esposito owned from his days in the army. I was not sure whether the rifle he was carrying was real or not but I did not take the time to find out. It did look real.

Lanie came dressed as Cat Woman, a rather seductive sexy Cat Woman, and 'the girls' were on show again in that slinky tight dark blue costume. She reminded me of Eartha Kitt when she played Cat Woman from the TV series Batman from the late sixties.

I had been milling about schmoozing and joking, playing the good host to the hilt with the guests. Many of the guests had really gone all out with their costumes and I was complimenting them on their choice of costume. There was the usual collection of witches with their black pointy hats, broomsticks and noses with warts, some skeletons, a Cleopatra or two, I counted at least three dead bodies walking about enjoying the party, a Mummy, four Count Draclua's of the Bela Lugosi variety, a Frankenstein and a handful of bewigged French nobles prior to the French Revolution and during the Revolution with a guillotine mark on their neck. Hogwarts was well represented I noticed.

I also had to spend a little explaining to some people who I was. I would have thought the black raven sitting on my left hand would have been a dead give away but no. I had to tell them that I was Edgar Allen Poe.

All the while I was doing this I kept one eye focused on the front door on the look out for Beckett. I spotted Lanie by the punch bowl having poured herself some of the punch. I slid over to her.

"Careful. That is a potion of my own concoction. Drink it, and who knows who or what you might become." I warned. "Also, you might wonder what happened to your pants."

"Ooh, sounds like my kind of party." Lanie purred.

I laughed as I moved off.

"You throw a great shindig for a 19th century poet, Mr Poe." Ryan said. He was partaking of the buffet the caterers had set out.

I acknowledged the compliment with a slight bow of my head. Just then Mother made an appearance. She was dressed up a Cruella de Ville of _A Thousand And One Dalmations_ fame. Her outfit was overshadowed by the rather large hat she was wearing.

"Well, I've always told him, 'Darling, if you're going to do something, do it big or not at all'" Mother said to Ryan.

"Is that why you chose that hat?" I remarked.

My gaze wandered off in search of a certain police detective. She was nowhere to be seen. If she had come in costume it must have been a pretty good one because I had not spotted her.

"Hey, Castle. You looking for Beckett?" Esposito called out.

"No. Why?" I replied, trying not to look too obvious.

"She said she wasn't sure she would make it." Ryan explained. "She had some paperwork to finish up, but it's early."

"Hey, Poe, looking for me?" Came a sultry, sexy voice that I recognised.

I spun around to find Beckett approaching slowly. She was dressed in a long black trench coat that was belted up, the same one that I had seen at the precinct earlier in the day. I was a little crestfallen to see her not in costume.

"You're you." I pointed out.

"You sound disappointed, Castle."

"I said costumes are mandatory." I replied. "I mean, dress up. You know? Be a little scary."

"Yeah, well, I was going for sexy."

Did I hear her say she had gone for sexy? Yeah, I think I did. My heart jolted. Did she come as a slutty nurse like I had suggested? Would that be too much to hope for?

Beckett reached for her belt and slowly began to pull on it. I held my breath, barely able to contain my excitement. If she had not come as a slutty nurse, then she must have come in that stripper cop uniform. That would be good too. I would not be complaining at all. The boys, Lanie and Mother had gathered behind me to watch as well.

Beckett held my gaze as the belt came apart. She held the ends of the trench coat together as I looked on eagerly, expectantly. I slowly lifted my free hand to cover the eyes of the raven on my arm lest it be offended by what it might see.

There was a twitch of Beckett's lips as if she wanted to smile. Suddenly she pulled open her trench coat. Out leaped a long green frog-like, alien-like worm with blinking red nose. The alien with the red blinking nose squeaked loudly as it sprang at me. I let out an even louder squeak and leaped back from the alien worm. The others behind me started laughing, and I'm sure that the laughter was directed at me.

"Now we're even." Beckett declared, a triumphant look on her face.

Having recovered from the shock I held out the Raven on my arm to her.

"I'm giving you the bird." I told her.

The rest of the party went off very well and every one had a good time I'm pleased to report. I even managed to get a promise out of Beckett that she would wear a costume at my next Halloween party. Something that I was eager to see.

XXXXX

_**There you have it another case from the Case Files. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought of it by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The Case of Famous Last Words

Part 1

The sudden death of rock musicians is part and parcel of the industry or at least seems to be. Then there are those who died many years ago but nobody ever bothered to tell them. The music died when Buddy Holly and Jim Croce met their untimely demise in plane crashes. The magic ceased when Jimmy Hendrix and Janis Joplin died from drug overdoses. Kurt Cobain and Michael Hutchens of INXS died by their own hand. And then there are the ones who were murdered, like John Lennon and Marvin Gaye.

To that list of rock stars who have been murdered, you can also now add the name of Hayley Blue.

The case started early one morning. I had woken up rather early, early by my standards and found myself at a loss as to what to do. I did not feel like writing because I had spent of the previous day slaving away at my laptop bashing out a couple of chapters, so I needed a bit of a break from writing. I was not hungry at the moment, so no breakfast was needed. I was a loss.

Wandering around my office my eyes fell upon the guitar handset from _Guitar Hero_. My eyes lit up as an idea came to me. Apart from playing laser tag with my darling daughter, recently we started another contest. A Guitar Hero competition. At the moment Alexis was slightly ahead of me on the scoreboard she had reached a Jimmi Hendrix level while I was still struggling for a resemblance of Old Slow Hand, Eric Clapton. There had been a couple of games where I sounded more like Keith Richards operating on eleven different herbs and spices. So I needed to sharpen up my game if I was going to beat her and retain bragging rights. Why not practise now, I thought?

I fired up the game console and switched on the large screen TV on the wall and then picked up the guitar. I need something to get the blood going and found it in the form of _Dancing With Myself_ by Billy Idol. So there I was hopping and bopping all over my office, singing along with the song as my fingers flew up and down the fretboard. I was suddenly transformed into a real guitar hero, a virtuoso, I slipped and slide across the floor ala Tom Cruise in _Risky Business_, I even did a break dance manoeuvre on the floor as I tore out a particular riff. I was on fire man.

Oh. memo to self. Not a good idea for a forty year old man to gyrate about like a lunatic thinking he's a twenty year old again. At least not before going proper warm up procedures. Somewhere amongst all that hip swivelling and gyrating, slipping and sliding, and break dancing on the floor, I might have pulled a muscle. Ah, but for a moment in my imagination I had been transformed into a Chuck Berry or Jimmy Page or Jimi Hendrix even.

Jumping up off the floor, or more to the point, slowly hauling my aged carcass off the floor, I came to a sudden halt at the sight of my darling daughter. She was pale and staring at me. For a moment I thought she may have been wondering what madness had taken possession of me to be playing Guitar Hero so early in the morning. That thought was quickly dispelled at the tears that welled in her beautiful baby blue eyes.

"Hey. What's wrong?" I asked with growing concern. I switched off Guitar Hero.

"Dad, they're saying she's dead." Alexis said.

"Who's dead?" I said frowning.

"Hayley Blue." Alexis informed me. "The Gawker website just posted it."

"Oh, the girl from the band you like?"

"They say they found her body in an alley in Chelsea."

"Oh, angel, are you sure it's not just a rumour?" I said. "I mean, those gossip blogs, they don't really check facts."

I have lost count the number of times my name has appeared on these gossip blogs linked to one starlet or another all because we had a photograph taken together. Then there were the rumours this starlet was carrying my love child or that starlet was carrying twins of mine. All of them not true. These days anyone with basic typing skills and access to the internet can post anything or everything, whether true or not and the consequences be damned. I used to fret about it but then Paula took over handling such matters. Now these sorts of things don't bother me all that much anymore.

"They were right when they said Hayley was breaking up the band to go solo." Alexis insisted.

"Look, if there was any truth to it, I'm sure Detective Beckett would have called by now." I assured my daughter.

The Universe was in a whimsical mood on this particular morning because no sooner had the words left my mouth when my phone came to life. On looking at the caller ID, who should it be but none other than said Detective Beckett.

Beckett did not tell me who the body was that had been found all she told me she was coming to pick me up in ten minutes. I rang off and then assured my daughter that she was getting worried over nothing and then dashed off to the rain room for a quick shower.

XXX

Beckett and I arrived at the crime scene. On the ride over I had learned we were heading to Chelsea, and I told Beckett about what Alexis had found on the Gawker website. That the body which had been found was that of Hayley Blue. All Beckett could tell me was that body that had been found was that of a young woman and had not been identified yet.

The alley had been cordoned off and we had to battle through a posse of news cameras and reporters. They fired questions at Beckett with the rapidity of arrows fired by the English army against the French at Argincourt. Beckett hid behind the shield of 'no comment'. Several uniforms had to intervene to keep the baying press pack at bay.

Half way down the alley was where the body was located. It was the body of a young woman suspended from the end of an extended fire escape. Dr Sidney Perlmutter was the ME on duty and he was standing in front of the body making notes on a clipboard.

On reaching the body my heart sank on seeing who it was.

With the usual morning pleasantries completed Beckett got down to business.

"Cause of Death?" Beckett asked.

"Broken neck." Perlmutter replied. "At least that's my prelim. No wallet, no ID."

"She doesn't need ID." I said, as I stared at the lifeless body that was hanging upside down on the ladder.

"You know her?" Perlmutter said turning to look at me.

I nodded my head sadly.

"Are you sure it's her?" Beckett asked.

"That's Hayley Blue." I confirmed. "I took Alexis to see her band, The Blue Pill, last year. What happened?"

"Well, it looks like she was killed off site, then brought here and staged."

"Time of death?" Beckett asked Perlmutter.

"Uh, I'd say between midnight and 3am, give or take." Replied the medical examiner.

I saw Beckett's face crease into a small frown. She looked at us.

"Do you guys hear that?" She asked.

"What?" I replied.

"The song, it's playing again." She said.

Beckett turned to the body. She reached up to the body and traced the earphone cord until she found the ipod in the jacket. She took the ipod out and pulled out the earphone cord. She then checked the ipod screen.

"It's on repeat." She informed us. "_Here Kitty Kitty_ by The Blue Pill. It's one of hers."

Under normal circumstances I would have expressed surprise. I would not have figured her as a Blue Pill fan. However I have learned that Beckett's taste in music is many and varied.

"Well, that's got to be a message, right?" I suggested.

Beckett passed the ipod to Perlmutter.

"Alright, have CSU bag this." She ordered. "Check the body. Fibres, prints, the whole works. Guy could have tossed the body in a dumpster, instead he hangs her from a fire escape. He is sending a message."

Much to my surprise Perlmutter accepted Beckett's orders without complaint. Not a moan or caustic remark came from the man, which if you knew the guy would have surprised you too.

Beckett took a look around the alley to see if we could find anything but we found nothing. Talking to the uniforms that were first on scene, they too could provide us with nothing useful. It was the same broken record; nobody heard or saw anything.

Finishing up at the crime scene Beckett and I returned to the precinct. As we were heading towards Beckett's desk Captain Montgomery stepped out of his office.

"It's about time you got back." He said. "We've got a very persistent citizen waiting to ask you some questions."

Alexis stepped out of the captain's office. I was stunned to see my darling daughter standing there.

"Alexis, what are you doing here?" I said. "How come you're not at school?"

"I have study hall first period." Alexis replied. "Dad, is it true?"

"Uh, yeah, sweetie." I said sadly and gently. "I'm afraid so."

"What happened? Was it the drugs?"

"Doesn't look like it." Beckett replied. "Why? Did she have a drug problem?"

"Well, she used to." Alexis replied. "She went to rehab three months ago, after her friends found her choking on her own..."

"Okay! You know..." I quickly interjected, trying to assert some parental control on a situation that was threatening to get out of hand. "You know what, I think it's time we reset the parental controls on your computer."

"Please." Alexis rolled her eyes at me. "I had to set the parental controls on your computer remember?"

I caught sight of Beckett grinning at our exchange. I think she was finding this a little amusing. I don't recall my darling daughter setting the parental controls on my computer but at the same time I wont say that she did not do it. I merely and conveniently can not remember her doing it.

"Speaking of which..." I said, still trying to assert parental control on my daughter. I even started to steer her in the direction of the elevator. Alexis dug in her heels.

"No!" Alexis protested.

Esposito came into the bullpen and went to his desk.

"Beckett." He called out.

"Yeah?" Beckett said, turning to look at him.

"Street was negative for cameras." He reported. "We got a dozen shoe prints off the alley, size five through eleven. Checked her DMV records online. She moved from the address they had listed three months ago."

"That was about the time Hayley went into rehab." Beckett replied.

Ryan now made an appearance. He went to his desk and sat down.

"Check this out." He said. "I ran a search for that song on Hayley's ipod, _Here Kitty Kitty."_

Beckett walked over to Ryan's desk and was soon joined by Esposito and Captain Montgomery. Alexis and I also came over to the desk.

"Look what popped up." Ryan added. He hit a key on his computer console.

Instantly on the computer screen there appeared a music video of Hayley Blue.

"_I can see the writing 'cause I wrote it on the wall."_

"A music video?" Beckett questioned.

"See if this looks familiar." Ryan said as he sped up the video.

As the video play there appeared a scene where Hayley is hanging upside down from the end of a fire escape. Exactly like the way her body was found this morning.

"Is that how you found her?" Alexis asked.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Beckett asked, looking at Alexis.

"Yeah." Alexis nodded. "Hayley wrote this song about some obsessed fan who was stalking her."

"Do you know who he was?"

"Wait. There be something in the song. Play it again."

Ryan resumed playing the video.

"_It's okay to want me, but you want nothing else. Sitting back and plotting is a crime in itself."_

"'Sitting back and plotting.' Sounds like she thought he was dangerous." Captain Montgomery remarked.

"Yeah. Listen, here's the part." Alexis said.

"_Does fifty feet or less mean anything to you at all?"_

Ryan paused the video again.

"Fifty feet or less." Esposito repeated.

"She got a restraining order against him." Beckett declared. She straightened up.

"Alright, run it and get me a name." She told Esposito.

With that, the little group that had been huddling around Ryan's desk broke up. Beckett headed back to her desk. Esposito turned to his computer and began the search for the name of the stalker that Hayley Blue had taken a restraining order out on. Captain Montgomery Hovered by Esposito's desk.

I turned my attention to my darling daughter.

"And you will go off to school." I commanded.

"But I was just helpful." Alexis protested.

"Yes, but if I let you out of class every time your were helpful, you'd never go."

"But I wont be able to focus on school today. I just can't concentrate."

"Which will make you just like all the other kids at school."

"Dad." Alexis whined.

"I am serious, or I will call the truant officer." I looked across to where Captain Montgomery was and called out to him. "Do you still have truant officers?"

Captain Montgomery made a pained face and shook his head. "Budget cuts."

I looked down at my darling daughter. "You are so lucky."

Esposito got a hit on his search.

"Found your stalker. Franco Marquez, aka Frankie Markie." He announced, glancing at his computer screen. "Hayley filed half a dozen complaints against him." He turned around to look over to Beckett.

"It says here that he even tried to break into her apartment. And when she filed against him, he showed up in court and called her a..."

Esposito's voice trailed off when he looked at Alexis.

"B-I-T-C-H" He spelled out carefully.

"She can spell, Detective." I told Esposito, trying to keep a straight face.

"Probably better than you." Ryan added with a chuckle.

"Bring him in." Captain Montgomery ordered.

I turned my attention back to Alexis.

"And you, to school." I commanded.

"Fine." Alexis said with resignation.

"Thank you." I said.

I watched as Alexis walked from the bullpen and headed for the elevator. I could not help but smile at the sight of my darling daughter. I was really blessed the day she came into my life.

When Alexis disappeared from sight I turned around and was startled to find Beckett regarding me with this soft smile on her face. I started walking to her desk.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." Beckett replied.

The smile was still on her face as I sat down.

"It's just, I'm so used to you acting like a twelve year old all the time, it's kind of refreshing to see you as a father."

"Makes you want me, right?" I quipped.

At the time those words slipped out of my mouth little did I know how true they were, or how true they turned out to be. My beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life vehemently denies this of course but I eventually extracted the truth out of her.

"And there's the twelve year old again." Beckett said, rolling her eyes. She reached over and picked up her phone and started dialling.

"Who're you calling?" I inquired.

"Alison King Rehab Centre." Beckett explained. "It's where all the stars go to clean up. Figured Hayley must have given them her home address on her exit interview. If Hayley had cleaned up, that's where she would have gone."

XXX

Beckett was on the phone to the rehab centre for about fifteen minutes. At first she got the run around from whom ever she was speaking to and then was passed from one person to another, where she was forced repeat to the new person she was speaking to the reason for her call. As I watched her I could see she was taking on the look of a smouldering volcano not far from erupting. I had made a quick dash to the break room to get her a cup of coffee as a way of calming her down but the coffee though gratefully accepted did nothing to cool her growing anger. Just when I thought she was going to erupt she got onto a person who just happened to be a fan of Hayley Blue and was more than happy to help and provided Beckett with Hayley's last known address.

An hour later Beckett and I found ourselves sitting in a large recording studio, there were a few microphones about and various other pieces of recording equipment as well as a black grand piano and a few other instruments. There was enough room in this studio to accommodate a small orchestra. At a pinch it could have accommodated a large orchestra.

The studio belonged to Ian and Bree Busch. The Busch's had been Hayley's record producers. The Busch's were a couple aged in their mid to late forties. Ian Busch to me looked like the younger brother of the guy who played the father in the TV show _Frasier._

The Busch's were sitting directly opposite us. They had already heard about the news of Hayley's death and as you would expect they were shocked and devastated.

"Mrs Busch, the rehab centre said that you and your husband paid for her treatment and that she moved in with you after she left the facility." Beckett said.

"Yeah. She'd become like family." Bree replied with a small smile.

"Do all record producers pay for their artists to go to rehab?" I inquired.

"No. Most just score them drugs and then look the other way." Ian said. "Manager gets them some pot so they can relax. The producer gets them some blow so they can...so they can work. Then someone gets them heroin. By the time we got to Hayley, she was already hooked. We told her our door was always open if she wanted to get clean."

"She was always better than the band. She was the talent." Bree added. "When they finally broke up, she wanted off the drugs. So we took her in."

"She was ready." Ian said.

Bree smiled weakly. "She was recording again. And to be killed by a fan..."

"Actually, we don't know for sure that it was Franco." Beckett interjected.

The Buschs had been aware of Hayley's stalker.

"You don't?" Ian said, looking a little surprised.

"No." Beckett said firmly.

"But you weren't there in the middle of the night when she was waking up screaming, terrified that something like this was going to happen." Busch said with a little anger in his voice.

"We were supposed to protect her." Bree said in a low voice. "We should've tried hard to find her."

"To find her?" Beckett questioned.

"Last Monday, she didn't show up at the studio for a session." Ian explained. He shrugged a little before he spoke again. "When we got home, she was gone. So were her clothes, her watch, her jewellery. Anything she could sell. We figured..."

"She'd relapsed." I suggested.

Bree nodded her head. "We tried calling her, but her cell phone was disconnected. It, you know...it wasn't like her to just disappear. Something spooked her."

"Did Hayley have any family?" I asked.

"Yeah, a sister, Sky." Bree confirmed.

"Do you know where we can find her?" Beckett asked.

"Wherever she is, she probably has a needle in her arm." Ian said, frowning. "When Hayley got out of rehab, all she could talk about was saving Sky."

"Not that Sky wanted saving, after what Hayley did to her." Bree added.

Beckett looked at Bree and frowned a little. "What did Hayley do to her?"

Bree offered up a tight lipped smile before she spoke again. "She got famous."

At that moment Beckett's phone started ringing. She saw who was calling, quickly she excused herself and rose to her feet. My eyes followed her as she answered the phone. I could tell from her reaction that it was important news.

And it was. The caller was Esposito he and Ryan had gone to Franco's place only to discover that he had done a rabbit. Got out of Dodge. Esposito told Beckett they had questioned the neighbours and one of them had seen him leaving with a backpack that morning and from the looks of things Franco had left his place in a hurry. Esposito also informed Beckett that our suspect had purchased a bus ticket at the Port Authority that morning. Ryan, who had been chasing down the ticket found out that Franco was heading upstate and the bus had pulled out about five minutes ago.

Beckett rang off and ended our interview with the Buschs and was heading for the door. I gave the couple a nod goodbye and ran to catch up with Beckett, who without being prompted by me had filled me in on the call she had with Esposito.

XXXXX

_**Let me know what you thought of this chapter.**_

_**Con **_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Famous Last Words

Part 2

Beckett was on the phone co-ordinating the plan to stop the bus with the boys. I was holding the phone to her ear while allowing her to use both hands on the steering wheel as we sped towards the location of the bus. The boys had already called in back up. They had even called in air support to locate the bus. Thankfully it did not take the guys in the chopper long to locate the bus and send us the location.

Trying to stop a moving bus on a busy New York street is not as easy as it is portrayed in the movies or on TV. It is very much heart in mouth stuff, let me tell you. You have to hope that the street is pretty clear of traffic, you have to pray that the other drivers on the street have enough sense to get the hell out of the way, which does not always happen. And you have to hope that the bus driver has sense enough to obey the command of the police.

We had found the bus and set off after it. A marked police cruiser pulled ahead of us and using the bullhorn got the driver to pull over. A second marked police car followed the first. The command to stop had been heard by the driver and he screeched to a halt. Both marked cruisers blocked off the bus while other cars surrounded the bus.

Beckett jumped out of the car with her gun drawn. She was already wearing her vest, having put it on before we had gotten into the car after we had left the Busch's studios. I too got out of the car and I was wearing my Writer's vest but I remained by the car. Beckett had ordered me to remain by the car and this time I was not about to argue with her. From where I was standing I had a good view of the bus and in particular the people on the bus. They were looking more than a little concerned about the bus having been pulled over by a posse of police.

Beckett raced up to where the boys were standing. Esposito held up a photo of our suspect for Beckett to inspect.

"Alright, got it." Beckett told him.

Beckett with her gun at the ready climbed into the bus. Esposito and Ryan were right behind her, also with their guns drawn and ready to use them if the need arose. Beckett stared down the length of the bus.

"Hands where I can see them now!" She shouted.

"Nobody move!" Esposito added.

Hands were quickly reaching for the ceiling of the bus. Concern had turned to fear at having three armed cops storm the bus. As ordered nobody moved. Beckett slowly inched her way down the aisle looking from one passenger to another, studying the faces carefully before moving on to the next passenger. The women she did not take too much interest in except to make sure they did not pose a danger to her or the boys. There were a couple of rough looking faces that she paid careful attention to before moving on.

Beckett spotted one of the passengers who was sitting midway in the bus. He had his head bowed and had a hood drawn up as well as a scarf. Beckett moved to the passenger and pulled the hood back to reveal a man wearing makeup and hair done up to look like Hayley Blue. This was our suspect, Franco Marquez. All of a sudden Franco leaped up from his seat as if he was going to attack Beckett.

I saw what happened next. This was a real heart in the mouth moment. I held my breath with my heart pounding when I saw Franco leap out of his seat. Beckett saw the attack coming and side stepped him and knocked him down to the floor. Esposito swiftly moved in and put the cuffs on him.

Hauling Franco to his feet Esposito dragged him off the bus. Ryan helped his partner. Franco complained long and loudly as he was shoved unceremoniously into the back of a police cruiser.

Beckett climbed down from the bus a minute later and I was able to start breathing again. I did not realise how worried I had been for her until that moment she had made her reappearance. She looked unharmed after her encounter with Franco.

Holstering her gun Beckett started walking over to her car. I could not help myself but I had to ask her if she was alright. She assured me that she was and that she was pleased the take down had gone smoothly. I might have asked her a few more times if she was alright on the ride back to the precinct till I annoyed her and she threatened to shoot me. I quickly refrained from asking again.

I will concede I might have been acting a little irrational, Beckett after all is a detective, who is trained to handle such situations like the one that had unfolded in the bus. Also she had as back up two other highly trained detectives. Still I had been concerned for her.

An hour later Franco Marquez was sitting in the interrogation room across from us. He was a reedy looking character who wore make up trying to make himself look like Hayley Blue. His hair that was coloured just like Hayley did not look like it had been washed in several days and maybe longer. He looked rather pathetic really. I put his age in the mid twenties.

"You guys are stupid!" Franco shouted at us. "I loved Hayley. She was my soul mate! Why would I kill her?"

Now when you're a main suspect in a murder investigation, I don't think it is the smartest of ideas to call the police who are questioning you, stupid. Then again Franco did not look like he was the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Why did you run?" Beckett asked.

"Huh! When I heard how you found her, I knew you would think. 'She wrote the song about me, so of course I must have k..."

"Where were you after midnight last night?" Beckett interrupted.

"She played a set at the Bitter End last night." Franco informed us. "A brand new song. It was a total surprise. Like, there was no email blast or nothing, so I wasn't there."

"I asked you were you were, not where you weren't." Beckett said tersely.

"Someone recorded the concert and posted it online. It's gone totally viral already. So, that's where I was. At home in my room, listening to Hayley's final show."

"You say 'final show' like you knew that it was going to be her last." I told him.

"I did know." Franco insisted. "So did Hayley. She knew last night she was gonna die."

Franco reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened it up and pulled up a video he had stored on it.

"Listen." He said as he pressed play.

Beckett and I peered at a grainy, dimly lit recording of Hayley Bluey sitting by herself on a small stage playing a guitar.

"Her new song." Franco said.

"_The hands were dealt will never disappear. Death, she grows near."_

Franco reached over and closed the phone then looked up at us.

"'Death, she grows near'. She knew he was going to kill her last night. And he knew he could frame me when he did."

Beckett frowned at that.

"Who are you talking about?" She demanded.

"I know I'm not supposed to, but...The restraining order...I followed her. I came round the corner, he was yelling at her. He said he was going to kill her."

"Who said?" Beckett said, raising her voice. "Who did you see?"

"Zack Metzger. Her guitarist." Franco announced.

It was obvious Franco Marquez was not our killer but Beckett got his statement down on paper and then handed him over to a uniform to deposit him in a holding cell while his alibi was checked out.

XXX

Half an hour later found Beckett and I standing in the bullpen as Esposito approached us with a file in his hand.

"Zack Metzger, guitar god." Esposito announced as he handed Beckett the file. "Juvie records are sealed, but he's got half a dozen priors as an adult."

Beckett opened the file and scanned the information on the cover sheet.

"A couple of them are domestic assaults, too." Esposito added. "He likes to hit women."

Beckett lifted her head from the file to look at Esposito's grim looking face. She returned her gaze back to the file. I peered down at the file and at the photograph of Zack. What I saw did not impress me all that much.

"Look at this guy." I remarked. "If I was a woman, I'd just hit him back. Does he look like a killer to you?"

"Everybody looks like a killer to me, Castle." Beckett replied. She glanced up from the file and flashed a quick smile. "Job requirement."

I could not help it but I had to ask her. I moved a little closer to Beckett.

"Do I look like a killer to you?" I asked.

Beckett looked up from the file again. "Yes. You kill my patience."

Ouch. As come backs go, this one was a pretty good one. I could not help but notice that when Beckett turned to look at Esposito she must have rolled her eyes or made a face because Esposito's response was to grin.

At that moment Ryan came strolling into the bullpen and came and joined us.

"Hey. So...I just took a report from the receiving officer at the 20th Precinct." He announced. "He recognised Hayley from the news."

"And?" Beckett prompted.

"He says Hayley showed up at their door to file a report the day she went missing."

"About what?" I asked.

"He doesn't know." Ryan said. "She asked to speak to a detective. By the time the receiving officer found one, she's skipped out."

"There's only one reason you go to he cops, to report a crime." Esposito remarked.

"Or to get help because you think you're in danger." Beckett added.

XXX

Beckett and I headed to Zacks apartment only to find that he was not there. A friendly next door neighbour informed us that Zack was out rehearsing with his band. The friendly neighbour also told us that the rehearsal place was an old warehouse on the New Jersey side of the Hudson. Thankfully the friendly neighbour even supplied us with an address. We thanked the friendly neighbour and set out for New Jersey.

It did not take us long to find the place. It was one of the few remaining old river front warehouses. It should have been condemned a long time ago but nobody had gotten around to calling in the wrecking ball. It was like the odd man out amongst all the gentrification taking place all along the river.

Beckett drove onto the pier and straight through the open doors. We came to a screeching halt. Beckett got out of the car slamming the door loudly. I was not far behind her without the banging of the car door.

Needless to say our arrival put an end to the rehearsal session. Zack escorted us to a quieter part of the building. Zack was about five seven, thin with a waxy complexion and sunken eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The perfume he was giving off was a little on the overpowering side and certainly would not be found on the after shave counter of any high end department store.

"We heard what happened to Hayley. It sucks, right?" Zack said without much emotion.

"Can I get you a tissue?" I said sourly.

When I had taken a look at his photograph back at the precinct I did not like him much, then when Esposito said that he hit women, I liked him even less. Seeing him now face to face, I thought of him even less than I did before.

"We have a witness who saw you guys fighting." Beckett informed him.

"So?" Zack said, unconcerned.

"So, she's dead now." Beckett said tersely.

I did not need to be a rocket surgeon to know that Beckett didn't like Zack any more than I did.

"Well, I did not kill her."

"You sure about that?" I said. I could not help but notice that both his arms resembled a human pin cushion with all the needle marks that dotted his skin. "You sure you didn't get a little high, maybe pull a Hulk smash on your band mate?"

Zack felt a little self conscious about displaying his needle marked arms and he quickly rolled down his shirt sleeves.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He said.

"Where were you between midnight and 3am on Sunday night?" Beckett asked.

"We had a gig." Zack replied. "Gillespie's, sweet sixteen over on 82nd. We finished around 1:30. We packed up and were out by two. Me and Nick shared a cab to Williamsburg. I paid by credit card." He stared at Beckett.

"We done?" He added.

"Wow. Sweet sixteen parties." I said a little sarcastically. "When Hayley was with the band, weren't you opening for Pink?"

Yeah, I'll put my hand up. I was trying to needle the guy—no pun intended. Like I said, I didn't like him much. Well, I got a reaction out of him.

"What do you guys want me to say, okay?" Zack said angrily. "She screwed all of us when she had her little meltdown and decided to go solo. Do I hate her? Yes! Did I kill her? No!"

"What did you guys fight about?" Beckett asked.

"Her being a selfish bitch." Zack shot back, still brimming with anger. "She found out that we were holding auditions for her replacement, and she had those d-bag producers send us a cease and resist letter."

"Or a cease and desist letter." I corrected him.

Beckett shot me a glance and I could see the amusement dancing in her eyes.

"We made the reputation for The Blue Pill, but she owned it." Zack continued. "So what? She has a meltdown and disappears off the map, and we can't use our damn name? Hell, we can't even get arrested now."

"Poor choice of words." I said in a low voice.

Beckett's phone started ringing and she quickly answered it. Zack glared back at me and I just stared back at him.

"Okay..." Beckett said and then rang off and then looked at me. "Hayley's sister is on her way to the morgue to identify the body."

She started walking but paused beside Zack and gave him one of her glares.

"Don't leave town." she told him.

I moved up to Zack after Beckett walked off.

"But feel free to bathe."

XXX

Beckett and I arrived at the morgue to find Perlmutter and several morgue attendants standing around in the corridor. Perlmutter was on the phone demanding that security come down there right away. From within the freezer room there came a lot of noise and the muffled sound of a woman shouting.

"What's going on here?" Beckett asked as she approached Perlmutter.

Perlmutter put the phone down and turned to look at Beckett.

"Hayley Blue's sister, Sky is having a very emotional reaction to her sister's death." He informed us.

Emotional reaction was putting it mildly, I would have said a meltdown judging by the shouting that was coming from the room.

Beckett took charge of the situation and moved to the door that led into the freezer room, I was right behind her. She slowly pushed open the door and peered in.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you! Who's dead now, huh? You are!"

Sky was a bedraggled looking young woman, with a similar hairstyle to that of her now deceased sister only darker. She was dressed grungily. I could not tell exactly how old she was but if Hayley was the elder sister then Sky would not have been much older than about twenty, but like I said it was hard to tell, she looked a lot older. She was unsteady on her feet as she shouted down at her sister. I did not need to see the half empty bottle of alcohol in her hand to know that the young woman was drunk.

"Sky?" Beckett said gently.

At the sound of Beckett's voice Sky turned around quickly, lost her balance and landed on her backside. Recovering from the shock of the landing Sky looked up at Beckett.

"What do you want?" She demanded. "Cause I'm talking to my sister."

Beckett took a few steps into the room. I remained by the door. I knew that Beckett could handle this situation. I had seen her do it before.

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

In Sky's other hand she held a rather large knife. She regarded Beckett for some moments, swaying a little.

"You a cop?" Sky asked.

"Yeah." Beckett replied. "Is that a knife?"

"Am I breaking the law?"

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"Pretty bad."

Sky nodded her head a little as she considered her situation. Then she turned the knife in her hand pointing the handle in Beckett's direction and then held out both her arms outs.

Beckett moved over to where the young woman was sitting. She knelt down and removed the knife and the bottle of alcohol from her hands.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Sky asked. "I think I might have killed her."

With the weapon safely out of reach Beckett started to help Sky to her feet. I left my position at the door and came over to help get Sky off the floor. I had thought Sky may have taken other substances apart from alcohol but as I was helping her to her feet I could not be sure. Sky looked at me with her glazed eyes and demanded to know who I was. Beckett did the introductions but my name did not register with Sky. I guess she was not much of a reader.

Beckett and I emerged from the freezer room with Sky between us. Perlmutter looked relieved that the situation was over and he could get back to work. I could not help but notice there were a pair of security guards hovering behind Perlmutter. The medical examiner did take a moment to thank Beckett for getting Sky out of his work place.

We could have interviewed Sky in one of the rooms down at the morgue but Beckett decided it would be better to take Sky back to the precinct and talk to her there.

XXX

The moment Beckett put Sky into the back seat of her car Sky fell across the seat and promptly fell asleep. During the ride back to the precinct I kept looking behind to check to see if the girl was alright. Thankfully she was and she did not stir.

Sky had sobered a little during the ride back to the precinct and she did not fight us as we took her up to the Homicide floor. We took her to the interview lounge. I went over and poured her a cup of coffee. Beckett sat down opposite her and I sat next to Beckett.

Beckett waited a few minutes for Sky to take a few sips of her coffee before she started the interview.

"How did you kill her?" Beckett asked, finally.

"I told her to do the world a favour and drop dead." Sky replied. "And she did. It's funny, she usually doesn't listen to me."

"Why would you tell her to drop dead?" I asked. "She's your sister."

Sky looked up from her coffee.

"She was an ass."

"When did you see her last?" Beckett asked.

"I don't know." Sky said and shrugged. "Wednesday, Thursday. What day is it today?"

"Where'd you see her?"

"She found me selling a bracelet that she bought me for my birthday."

Beckett nodded her head slightly. "Do you know where she was staying?"

"No. Not since she left Bree and Ian's Church of the Holier-Than-Thou." Sky shot back with a slight sneer on her face. "She said she was going off the grid. She didn't even have a phone. Secret Agent Clean and Sober Hayley Blue."

Sky paused and took a sip of her coffee.

"Why'd she leave their place?" Beckett questioned.

Sky looked at Beckett.

"She always leaves." She said.

"You said she was looking for you last week." I said.

"Yeah." Sky nodded. "She had something to tell me. Something important."

"What?" Beckett asked.

"I don't know, because I told her to go screw herself.. I mean, I really don't need her trying to fix me or trying to save me, or making promises that she knew she wasn't going to be able to keep."

"What promises did she make?" I inquired.

"She said that I could come back." Sky replied. "She said that we were going to be a team. But I had to get clean. 'You gotta clean up, baby girl. You're gonna end up dead.'"

Sky paused as she looked from me to Beckett.

"Hmm, thus irony. How I was supposed to get clean when she couldn't even do it?"

Beckett frowned as Sky's words struck her.

"Wait a minute, she was using again?" Beckett said.

"Yeah. She was with Tony the day after I saw her."

"Who's Tony?"

"My dealer." Sky informed her. "She was handing him a wad of money."

At the end of the interview Beckett wanted Sky to stay for a little while but Sky was having none of that. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. I too thought that the girl was in no condition to be walking the streets of New York and tried to convince her to stay for a little while but she got prickly and was ready to put up a fight that we had no choice but to reluctantly let her leave.

XXX

Emerging from the interview room Beckett and I headed back to her desk to do some work and for me to watch her doing some work. After about ten minutes I felt the need to for a shot of caffeine. Getting to my feet I asked if she wanted a coffee but Beckett she shook her head.

I headed to the break room. As I was making myself a coffee I was thinking over what Sky had said. Suddenly something occurred to me and I wanted to share it with Beckett. I grabbed my coffee mug and quickly scurried back to Beckett's desk.

As I approached Beckett's desk I caught sight of her putting her phone down and there was a stunned confused look on her face.

"I was just thinking." I announced as I sat down in my chair. "If she was using again, that would explain why she left her producers, but not why she was killed, who killed her, or why she was killed."

As I had been talking the expression on Beckett's face had not changed from that stunned confused look.

"What I just said was not confusing enough for your face to do what it's doing."

Beckett suddenly became animated again. She waved a hand in the direction of her desk phone.

"That was Perlmutter." She said. "The tox results just got back from the lab. There were no drugs in Hayley's system. She was 100% clean and sober."

"Then why was she giving a wad of cash to Tony the drug dealer?" I asked.

Beckett reached over and picked the bowl of M&Ms that she had on her desk and placed the bowl between us. She grabbed a handful of the candies and popped them in her mouth. I did the same and leaned back in my chair.

Sometimes when we are both stumped by something one or both of us will reach for the bowl of M&Ms and munch on them. If there's no M&Ms available then gummy bears will suffice. After several handfuls of M&Ms each had been consumed neither Beckett nor I could come up with answer to the question I had asked.

We were not too concerned not having answer to the question. You see Beckett had gotten from Sky before letting her go, details about Tony the Drug Dealer, where he could be found and so on. Armed with that information she had ordered Ryan and Esposito to go and round him up. Within an hour or two we would find out from Tony the Drug Dealer why Hayley Blue had given him a wad of cash.

Ninety minutes later the boys brought in Tony the Drug Dealer. He was a tall African American man aged in his early twenties with an attitude. He did not take too kindly to being asked by the police to come in to answer some questions and from what the boys had said after they had dumped him in one of the interrogation rooms, he had put up a bit of a fight hence his arrival in handcuffs.

Tony the Drug Dealer steadfastly refused to answer any of our questions until his lawyer arrived. Beckett and I left the interrogation room and waited for the arrival of the lawyer. The man finally turned up an hour later.

Beckett strode into the interrogation room followed by a uniform with me bringing up the rear. Beckett went to stand at the table directly opposite Tony the Drug Dealer. I took up station beside the two way mirror. The uniform went to where Tony the Drug Dealer was sitting and told him to stand up.

Beckett told him that he was not under arrest. The look of surprise on Tony the Drug Dealer's face lasted until the handcuffs came off. The uniform, with his task completed left the room. Tony the Drug Dealer was all for walking out the door as well. Actually he was heading for the door with his lawyer. He stopped and turned to look at Beckett after she asked him why he sold drugs to Hayley Blue.

Naturally enough Tony the Drug Dealer denied he sold any drugs to Hayley. Beckett came back

by throwing at him that she had a witness who had seen her handing over a large wad of cash to him. Tony the Drug Dealer did not have a happy disposition at the best of times from the looks of things and he certainly he was not happy at being accused of selling drugs to a singer who ended up dead.

"She didn't want drugs." Tony the Drug Dealer said angrily. "She wanted a gun."

"A gun?" I said, with a fair bit of surprise. Beckett too was surprised at what Tony the Drug Dealer had just said.

"And not a punkass .22, either." Tony the Drug Dealer added. "A .38. She wanted to put a hole in a brother. Seeing as she's dead, I say I did the right thing. The girl was scared."

"Of what?" Beckett asked.

"Didn't say, and I didn't ask. She just wanted a gun."

Beckett knew she was not going to get anything else from Tony the Drug Dealer so she motioned that he could leave which he did, and so did his lawyer.

XXXXX

_**Tell me what you thought of this chapter by dropping me a line. I'd love to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

A Case of Famous Last Words

Part 3

A little later that evening I was sitting in my chair at Beckett's desk watching her talking to Perlmutter on the phone. I could not hear what the medical examiner was actually saying but I did hear him and he did not sound pleased.

"Are you sure?" Beckett asked. She winced at the response that she received.

"No, Perlmutter, I'm not trying to tell you your job. I just..."

Beckett's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Hello?" She said and then looked at me. "He just hung up on me."

"There is a reason he hangs out with dead people." I pointed out. "So, what did he say?"

Beckett put down her phone.

"He identified the lipstick that was used to paint the smile on Hayley's face as Daniella Bolan's Velvet Kiss lipstick, Lava Red." Beckett informed me.

"Yes, but what about the gun?"

"Oh, thought you'd never ask." Beckett grinned. "They found gunshot residue on Hayley's hands."

I nodded my head. "So not only did she buy a gun, but she used it. But why didn't we find it?"

"That's because we didn't find her where she was killed." Beckett stated.

I nodded my head in agreement.

"So, someone attacked her, someone that she was afraid of." Beckett theorised. "She tries to shoot them. And in the struggle, the assailant breaks her neck, drags her down an alleyway, and hangs her upside down, paints a smile on her face, which apparently was a lot like a music video that has nothing to with our murder."

I had been watching her as she was building theory. Her voice had started out confident but as she continued it quickly lost its confidence and her face was displaying a look that seemed to say that even she could not believe what she was saying. Somewhere during this my eyebrows had risen in surprise at what she was postulating.

"You thought you sounded so smart when you started that sentence, didn't you?" I said, trying hard not to grin.

"Okay, Mr Mystery Writer Man, what's your best selling theory?" She challenged, a smile gracing her face.

"I'm going to go with the butler." I volleyed back.

"The butler?"

"That's who we always go with when we run out of ideas." I said. A thought then came to me. "How about Alexis?"

"Oh, Alexis." Beckett smiled.

"She's perfect. She's peripheral to the case, we don't suspect her, she has no alibi..." I suggested.

I could tell Beckett was on the verge of laughing. Amusement was dancing in those hazel eyes of hers.

"Okay, I'll tell you what. Why don't you go home and question her, and if she breaks, call me." She announced.

I was being dismissed for the evening but it was being done in a nice way. I was not about to argue with her. The call of home was growing stronger as the evening descended. Slowly I rose to my feet.

"Don't work too late."

"I wont." Beckett assured me.

"Until tomorrow."

Beckett smiled and nodded her head. "Night, Castle."

XXX

On returning to the bosom of my family I found my darling daughter sitting at the kitchen counter with her laptop open in front of her. She was viewing some video that was playing. Mother was in the kitchen.

"Hey. If you killed someone, you would tell me, right?" I asked my darling daughter as in a way of greeting.

"Of course." Alexis replied, looking up from the laptop. She flashed a grin. "I need help in hiding the body."

I could not help but laugh at her response. "That's my girl."

I went into the kitchen and greeted Mother with a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hi, darling." Mother said warmly. She was pouring herself a glass of red wine.

"Did you get my text?" I asked Alexis.

"Yeah. Did you really meet the rest of The Blue Pill?" Alexis asked excitedly.

"Yes I did." I replied as I came over to the counter to stand opposite from her. "And all I can say is, admire them from afar."

I could not help but shudder at the memory of that motley collection of musicians, especially Zack. I motioned to Alexis's laptop.

"What are you listening to?" I asked as I moved from the counter over to the fridge and opened it.

"It's Hayley's last performance. Oy!" Mother informed me as she went to the counter and sat herself down beside Alexis, then added. "She hasn't stopped listening to it all night. It's called _Threshold._"

This was the video that Franco had shown Beckett and me in the interrogation room.

"Oh, yeah." I nodded. "Little creepy though."

"Very creepy." Mother insisted.

My hand was reaching towards a bottle of beer. Actually I did not feel like a beer right at this moment so I picked up the last bottle of Perrier instead.

"How's it creepy?" Alexis asked with some surprise.

"'Death, she grows near'?" I pointed out. "It's kind of like _Final Destination, _but in song form."

"She doesn't mean 'death' death." Alexis said.

"Well, what other kinds of death are there?" I asked. I opened the bottle in my hand and took a long sip.

"Allegorical, metaphorical, symbolic, spiritual, emotional, sexual..." Alexis stated.

"Gah! Okay, okay, that's quite enough." I said coming over to the counter. I could not help but feel a little concerned about where this discussion was heading. I shot a look in Mother's direction. "I think I'm paying far too much for her education."

Truth be told I was very proud of my darling daughter, what ever I had paid for her education it was very well worth it and I was reaping the rewards. I mean how many sixteen year olds out there can discuss death in all its forms, like allegorical, metaphorical, symbolic, spiritual, emotional and sex... I think you get what I mean.

"I think this one's symbolic." Alexis said, motioning to her laptop. "Hayley was into all sorts of new agey imagery. Uh...numerology, astrology, tarot. And in tarot, the Death card doesn't symbolise dying. It symbolises transformation, change."

I was impressed with what Alexis was saying and I could not hide it from my face. I glanced across to Mother and she too looked impressed as well. Either that or she was confused, I was not too sure.

"Listen." Alexis said as she pressed play on her laptop.

"_The hands were dealt will never disappear."_

Alexis paused the video and looked up at me.

"'The hands were dealt', like she's having her cards read." Alexis explained. "'Death grows near', means change is coming."

"Oh! Oh! That reminds me of sitting around with Lisa Olsen, trying to decode The Beatles's lyrics, spinning the record backwards and to see if, Paul was dead." Mother announced as she took a quick trip down memory lane.

For those who were not born then, I will try to explain. Back in 1967 there was controversy when the Beatles song _Strawberry Fields Forever_ was released, there was a fading refrain right at the end of the song that caught imagination of countless teenagers around the world and led them to believe

that Paul McCartney was dead. The refrain at the end of the song that was spoken by John Lennon was thought be 'I shot Paul'. Actually what Lennon had said was 'cranberry sauce'. This of course led to kids and teenagers playing the record backwards to decipher the meaning.

"And who could forget the countless hours I spent pondering the lyrics to Van Halen's _Hot For Teacher_." I reminisced in a wistful tone of voice and a small smile before bringing the bottle of water to my lips. Ah good days indeed.

I was dragged away from my own trip down memory lane by the sudden beeping of Alexis' phone and then her laptop.

"Sounds like drama is afoot." I chuckled. "Who kissed whom at which bleachers?"

"No." Alexis replied. "It's the official Blue Pill website. There's a new thread talking about the band getting back together."

"What?"

I put the bottle down and went tearing around the counter to join her on the other side to check out the laptop.

"Look at this?" Alexis pointed to the screen.

"'Sky Blue is supposed to take Hayley's place as lead singer'." I read from the screen. "'This is all but a done deal.' 'I heard they're starting rehearsals right away.' OMG, OMG, OMG."

"Look at this one." Alexis said. "'A source at John McGinnis Management confirmed it when I called. The Blue Pill is definitely getting back together.'"

"A Hayley Blue tribute tour." I added, my face creasing in a frown.

Alexis turned away from the screen to look up at me.

"I thought you said Hayley wouldn't let the band have the name back." Alexi said.

"She wouldn't." I confirmed.

"Then how can they use it?"

I thought for a moment before I answered Alexis' question.

"Well, Hayley is dead, and Sky's her only family." I surmised. "If Hayley owned the name, then it would go to Sky."

"You don't think she killed her own sister?"

"Sky is 100 pounds dripping wet." I scoffed. "The only neck she could break is her own."

My eyes returned to the laptop screen and I quickly read over the postings. Then I caught sight of the link John McGinnis Management."

"John McGinnis Management? Who's John McGinnis?" I asked Alexis.

Alexis clicked on the link an up popped a box showing a picture of John McGinnis a bearded man in his late fifties.

"Hayley's old manager. She fired him when she got clean." Alexis reported. "She didn't say his name, but in her interview in _Spin_ last month, she pretty much implied that he's the one that got her hooked to begin with."

I straightened up as my mind began to turn over.

"Now, does that man look like a killer to you?" Mother remarked, glancing at the picture of John McGinnis on the screen.

"Everybody looks like a killer to me." I replied, channelling Beckett, though at the time I did not realise it.

"You didn't say that about Sky." My darling daughter pointed out.

"Just let me have this moment." I replied.

I left my two favourite red heads at the kitchen counter and headed into my office. Sitting at my desk I pondered a little further about the news that The Pill were getting back together and who was behind it. A theory developed.

A minute later I pulled out my phone from my pocket and hit the speed dial number for Beckett. She answered the call after the fourth ring. The sound of her sultry dulcet toned voice, almost had me forgetting the reason for calling her. She answered the call wanting to know if Alexis had cracked and confessed to killing Hayley Blue.

I could not help but smile at her question. I replied that my daughter was a far tougher nut to crack. However I did inform Beckett what Alexis and I had found on the internet, about the reforming of the band, with Sky as the new lead singer, and who was behind the reforming of the band.

I could not be sure but I suspected that Beckett may have been impressed with the new information I had just presented. She said that she would have the boys bring in John McGinnis for questioning in the morning.

Before ringing off Beckett did tell me to pass on her thanks to Alexis for her good work. I feigned hurt at her remark and for not including me in her 'well done'. And was that laughter I heard as the call disconnected?

XXX

The next morning John McGinnis was sitting in the interrogation room across from Beckett and myself. I was more than a little impressed at the swiftness of the man being rounded up and brought in for questioning by the boys. It seems Beckett after our phone call last night had called the boys and got them to bring him in first thing.

McGinnis was of average height with thinning fair hair that was turning grey. He wore a salt and pepper goatee beard, several thick gold rings adorned his fingers. I pegged him somewhere in his mid to late fifties. The moment I laid eyes on the man I took an instant dislike to him. He oozed sleeze and what he said during the interview did nothing to change my mind.

"I told you, Sunday night I was in Philly scouting a band." McGinnis said. "I hit a motel, I watched a little pay-per-view and I went to bed, which may say something about my taste, but it does not make me a criminal."

Beckett opened the file she had in front of her. It was McGinnis' file.

"But your rap sheet does." Beckett told him.

McGinnis rolled his eyes.

"Six counts of misdemeanour possession, two counts of felony possession with intent to distribute."

"What did you do, McGinnis?" I said. "Give them a little taste? Make them need you? Make them depend on you?"

McGinnis sat up in his seat and shot me a glare.

"Do you want to know what I did?" He said with a hint of anger in his voice. "I make things happen."

I could not contain the look of disbelief on my face.

"When I met Hayley and her sister, they were playing open mics at coffee houses in the East Village." He said. "Who do you think got her a vocal coach? Who paid for her stylist? I took a third rate, a third rate Miley Cyrus and turned her into the next Gwen Stefani. And right before my payoff, she walks away. I...I...never..."

McGinnis had gone from anger to suddenly emotional. If I was critiquing his acting performance I would have failed him. I mean, I have seen some bad acting in my time and what I had just witnessed was down there with the worst of them.

"And since she owned the band name, your hands were tied." I pointed out. "But now that she's dead, all you need to do was rope in Sky."

McGinnis smiled to himself. He leaned on the table.

"Look. The way I see it, the band gets back together, everybody makes a lot of money, everybody's happy."

"Except for Hayley. Because she's dead." Beckett said.

McGinnis grinned. "Which no doubt helps us sell lots of tickets when the band goes on tour."

I really hated this guy. I wanted to reach across the desk and wring his neck, or better yet I wanted to borrow Beckett's gun and just shoot him. Looking across to Beckett I could see that I would have a fight with her for the gun because I got the distinct impression she wanted to shoot the guy as well.

"Is that why you killed her?" Beckett asked.

McGinnis straightened up and look at Beckett with some amusement.

"Now, I know my rights here and I'm done talking. You think you've got a case, arrest me." He challenged. He placed his hands on the table wrists up, offering them for the handcuffs to be put on.

"I would love to have that kind of publicity." He added.

Beckett grinned back at the slimey man sitting across the table. There was no humour in that grin I might add. She closed the file and gathered up her things then got to her feet. I too rose to my feet. We left the interrogation room leaving the slime bag in the capable hands of the uniform who had been guarding the door. McGinnis would be taken to the holding cells while his alibi was checked out.

Beckett and I made our way back to her desk.

"I never fully appreciated the nuances of the word 'skeevy' until just now." I remarked to Beckett.

Beckett murmured a note of agreement.

We passed Ryan on our way to Beckett's desk.

"Hey Ryan, did you get the phone records for John McGinnis and McGinnis Management?" Beckett asked him.

"Yeah, I just got them." Ryan replied motioning to his desk indicate they were sitting there.

Beckett and I reached her desk and I looked at her.

"You don't think he did it?" I asked.

As much as I disliked the guy, and believe me I really did, I did not think he had killed Hayley. Would I have liked him locked up? Yeah sure. The world would be much better off if he had been taken off the streets.

"He challenged me to arrest him." Beckett told me. "He's probably screwed and figures bluffing is his best bet."

So the man was an idiot as well as a sleaze ball. It is not a very good idea to challenge Beckett nor is it a good idea to bluff her. Many a criminal has learned that painful lesson over the years.

Beckett looked across the bullpen towards Ryan.

"Ryan, let's cross reference his calls with our hit list." Beckett ordered him. "Find out if he was in contact with anyone from Hayley's inner cricle."

"What about him being in Philadelphia?" I questioned.

Beckett looked at me. "With the right connections you can kill with a phone call."

I have to admit she made a good point.

"Yeah, right here." Ryan announced as he consulted the file with the phone records. "Looks like the day before Hayley died, McGinnis put in a ten minute phone call to Zack, the guitarist."

Beckett and I had come over to Ryan's desk. I was surprised at this piece of news.

"Why would he call Zack the day before Hayley died?"

"Let's go find out." Beckett announced.

So it was another field trip out to the near condemned warehouse on the pier on the Jersey side. I just hoped that our friend Zack had taken up the advice I imparted to him about taking a bath.

XXX

An hour or so later Beckett and I pulled into the warehouse. As we got out of the car we heard a loud racket coming from the room next door where the band had set up its rehearsal area. There was a lot of yelling and screaming.

"What is you're problem, you freak?" Zack shouted. "You are completely mental!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, loser?" Sky screamed back.

"Don't walk away, I'm talking to you!"

"Get the hell away from me!" Sky screamed loudly. "You touch me again, and I swear to God I will kill you."

The sounds of bottles smashing had both Beckett and I running. I sprinted into the next room to find Zack and Sky fighting. Sky threw another bottle at Zack which smashed not far from his head. If I had the time I would have lamented her bad throwing arm. I moved swiftly toward Zack while Beckett went to Sky.

"Hey! Hey! It's okay." Beckett said to Sky pulling away from her confrontation with Zack.

"Screw you, you stupid whore!" Zack yelled at her.

"Zack." I warned as I grabbed him by the arm and roughly propelled him into a nearby chair.

"Hey, Sky." Beckett said to the girl.

"No, leave me alone." Sky shouted as she moved away.

I turned to look at the guitarist and glared at him.

"What did you do?" I demanded.

"Nothing man! She attacked me!" Zack said angrily.

I found that hard to believe and it must have shown on my face.

"We were riffing on one of Hayley's songs." He explained. "One minute she's singing along, the next minute, she goes postal, starts telling me I'm stealing from Hayley. She's crazy!"

"It doesn't look good, Zack." I said. "Beating up one Blue, killing another."

"Look..." Zack rose from the chair. "I already told you guys..."

As Zack had risen to his feet. I heard the strident clip of a pair of four inch heels rapidly approaching. If I was angry at this guy it was nothing to what Beckett was feeling.

"Sit down!" Beckett yelled. "Sit!"

Zack was a little taken aback at how angry Beckett was looking. He quickly obeyed and sat back down. Beckett moved a little closer to him, glaring at him.

"Now talk!"

Zack stared up at Beckett for a moment before he started speaking.

"I already told you guys, I didn't kill Hayley, okay?" He said. "I was at the birthday gig, remember?"

"Right. The Gillespies' sweet sixteen." Beckett shot back. "You took three half-hour breaks in between sets which no one remembers seeing you. You could have easily slipped away and killed Hayley."

Beckett had the boys check out Zack's alibi after we had spoken to him the first time. They had come back with the fact that he had slipped away and had not been seen during those three break in the band's sets.

"Nobody saw me because I didn't want to spark up a pipe in front of a bunch of teenagers."

"Well, your innate sense of decency is inspiring." I said sarcastically.

"Why did you talk to John McGinnis the day before Hayley was killed?" Beckett asked.

"He's my manager. Is that a crime?"

"Ex-manager. He let all you guys go after Hayley disbanded the group." Beckett corrected him in an angry tone of voice. She took another step towards Zack. "So why did he call you, Zack?"

Zack looked at Beckett and did not respond.

"I'll tell you why." Beckett continued. "You both needed to get rid of Hayley to get the name back. And he called with a plan."

"Okay, look, fine. He had a plan." Zack conceded. "But it wasn't to kill Hayley. He wanted to find Sky."

"Why?"

"He had heard that Sky and Hayley were talking again. He wanted me to grease her wheels a bit."

I had been pacing the floor while I had been listening to Zack's answers and trying to contain my anger. I turned and came towards him.

"Oh, what, with your vast array of charms?" I said angrily. I would moved even closer but Beckett placed her hand on my chest and stopped me.

Zack shot me a look before he spoke again and he told us that McGinnis wanted him to give Sky some dope and then have her talk to Hayley to get the name of the band back. McGinnis knew that the only way to get to Hayley was through Sky. So Zack got Sky wasted, unfortunately he got her a little too wasted. So with Sky unable to speak to her sister, Zack decided to go and see Hayley himself.

That last piece of information startled both me and Beckett. We shared a look of disbelief before Beckett turned her attention back to Zac.

"You saw Hayley the night she was killed?" Beckett said.

Zack nodded his head.

"You should have told us that, Zack."

"What, make me look even more guilty to you guys?" Zack scoffed. "No, I watch TV, I know how the jury works. These are the little things that get you convicted."

"So does lying to the police." I pointed out, trying hard to contain my anger.

Zack looked at me a little perplexed and uncomfortable. I could see that he had not considered that lying to the police would have consequences. He was not the sharpest tool in the shed, obviously.

"Keep going." Beckett prompted. "Spill it."

"She was at a coffee house." Zack informed us. "She was writing songs again. Everything was fine until her phone rang."

"What happened?" Beckett asked.

"She freaked. She hit ignore, but every time she did, it just rung again. And every time it rang, she just flipped out even more."

"You have any idea who it was?" I asked.

Zack nodded his head. "Yeah. Because they rang so many times, I saw the caller ID. It scared me when I saw it, too. It said it was Death calling."

I was kind of hoping Beckett would arrest Zack for something, anything, perverting the course of justice or something perhaps? I certainly gave Beckett an imploring look that hopefully conveyed my thoughts. If Beckett did understand what I was silently telling her she chose not to carry out my wishes. A little disappointingly she let him go.

We left the rehearsal room and walked back to where we had left the car.

"I thought she didn't have a phone." I remarked.

"She probably had a pay-as-you-go plan, and gave the phone company false information." Beckett suggested.

"Well, that makes sense if she was hiding from Death and trying to stay off the grid, like Sky said."

We reached Beckett's car and paused. I leaned against the side of the car. Beckett looked at me.

"Okay, so obviously, there's a human being at the other end of the phone." She said. "And whoever it is probably tracked her down and then killed her."

I nodded my head in agreement to her theory.

"So, who had the dubious distinction of being known by Hayley as Death?" She asked.

"Okay, well, how does the song go?" I said. "'Death, she grows near.' Death is a woman."

Beckett nodded her head. "Okay. Following you so far..."

"Okay." I continued. "Alexis says that Hayley liked to draw from tarot cards in her writing. And in tarot cards, Death isn't death. Death means, change."

Beckett's face brightened a little as she understood what I had explained. She nodded her head.

"Okay, so she wasn't hiding from death, she was hiding from change." Beckett surmised.

"She hated Obama!" I declared jokingly.

To her credit Beckett wisely chose not to react to the joke, allowing it to die a quick painless death.

"Who is the embodiment of change?" She questioned. "What woman represented the biggest change in Hayley's life? The one who sent to her to rehab. The one who saved her life."

It was a good theory that Beckett put forward but I could not help but frown a little.

"Bree Busch? Why would Hayley's producer want to hurt her?"

"I don't know, but it's worth a shot." Beckett said with a grin.

Beckett started to move to head to the driver's side of her car. I eased myself off her car. Beckett had taken only a couple of steps when we both heard the sound of sniffling. I turned to look at Beckett.

"Are you crying?" I asked.

Beckett stopped and held up her hand to stop me from walking. She mouthed the words 'stay there'.

I gave her a nod of agreement and watched as she turned and walked slowly to the end of her car. With her back turned I followed her for so that I could watch.

Beckett found Sky sitting hunched against the back of Beckett's car.

"Hey." Beckett said in a low voice, and crouched down beside the young woman.

Sky slowly lifted up her head to look at Beckett. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying.

"I was singing her words." Sky said. "I could feel like she was here."

"That's because your sister was strong." Beckett said gently and with a smile. "You thought she was using again, but she wasn't. She was clean."

Sky stared up at Beckett and as the detective's words sunk in, Sky's eyes widened in surprise.

After a few minutes Beckett managed to get Sky up on her feet. Both Beckett and I tried to convince Sky to get away from this place. Sky would not hear of it I'm afraid. She assured us that she was going to be fine. No matter what either Beckett or I said would not change Sky's mind. In fact it started to irritate the young woman. Before Sky started shouting and screaming at us which she looked on the verge of doing, Beckett decided to let her be and we left her there in the warehouse.

It bothered me that we left Sky to her own devices but I kept those thoughts to myself on the ride back to the precinct. It was not until we were walking through the hallway heading to Beckett's desk when I put my thoughts about Sky to voice.

"I wish there was something we could do." I said. "Can't we send her to rehab or something?"

Beckett did not need to ask me who I was talking about.

"No one can help her until she is ready to get clean." Beckett replied.

I had to bow to Beckett's better judgement on this matter. Being a cop she would have had first hand experience dealing with junkies and what they wanted or not wanted to do. All the same it still did not sit right with me.

We reached Beckett's desk and we did not have a chance to sit down when Ryan called out and approached.

"So, I called in the warrants you wanted on Bree Busch." Ryan said as he reached the desk. "Phone records are going to take a day, but her credit card puts her in the city at 10:48. Now, I checked her interview notes, she said she was at home in Brooklyn at ten."

"Where was she at 10:48?" Beckett asked.

"At a pharmacy at 12th and 19th." Ryan reported.

"That's three blocks from the crime scene." I pointed out.

Esposito approached us and he had a small grin on his face.

"Yeah. Made me wonder what she was shopping for." Esposito said. "So, I called the store. They faxed over a receipt."

Esposito handed a faxed sheet to Beckett. She quickly scanned the receipt.

"Bottle of water, energy bar, and tube of Daniella Bolan Velvet Kiss Lava Red lipstick." Beckett lifted her gaze from the receipt she was holding in her hand and turned to look at me.

"That's the same lipstick used to paint a smile on Hayley's face." I said.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts would be appreciated.**_

_**Con **_


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The Case of Famous Last Words

Part 4

A short while later Beckett and I were back in Bree Busch's studio. I have to say that I was a little surprised to find the studio was empty of some artist making a recording. All the other recording studios I have visited in the past have always been busy with some artist or rock band laying down some track of some future top ten hit record. I had a suspicion that the Busch's business may not have been doing all that well if this rather large studio was not being utilised to its optimum.

"Okay, it's true. I saw her the night she died." Bree Busch conceded.

Bree was by herself for this particular interview. Her husband, Ian, was at some meeting down town she had explained in answer to Beckett's question. I was inspecting the grand piano that Beckett and I were standing close to.

"Why didn't you tell us that before?" Beckett asked her.

"She had called the studio earlier that day." Bree said. "She spoke to my assistant, Kelly, okay? She said she wanted to come by and pick up some stuff she had left behind, a guitar and some pedals."

"That's how you got her new number." Beckett said.

Bree nodded her head. She said that she had called Hayley right back immediately and kept calling but Hayley would not pick up the phone. She had left about half a dozen messages. Finally Bree left a message telling Hayley to come that night and that there would be someone at the studio to give Hayley her stuff. Bree didn't tell her that the person who would be giving Hayley her stuff would be Bree herself.

"What time was that?" Beckett asked.

"About eleven." Bree said. "Anyway...I...I said, 'I'm not going to give you your stuff unless you tell me what's going on. Well, she wouldn't even look at me."

Bree paused a moment and looked at Beckett with a thin smile before she continued speaking.

"You have to understand , I had put so much money into this record. If she didn't finish it, I was going to lose this studio. So I had to get her to stay, right? She was using anyway."

"You offered her drugs." I stated.

"A bag. I offered her a bag. I said, 'There's plenty more where that came from'. I...I would have gotten her help after she finished. I couldn't let her walk away." There was a desperate note in her voice.

I shook my head at what Bree had said. Beckett did the same.

"Yeah, well, here's the thing, Mrs Busch. Hayley was clean when she died. She wasn't using." Beckett told her.

"Well, I know that now." Bree offered a weak smile. "I...I mean, she opened her jacket and showed me what was tucked inside. A gun. Well, she had a gun. And she said, 'I would rather put a bullet in my brain than to be using again'".

While Bree Busch had been speaking I had been casting my gaze around the studio. On the wall behind where Bree was standing one of the panels of the wooden baffles seemed a little more new than all the others that lined the walls around the studio. My curiosity was piqued, so leaving Beckett to question Bree I moved across the studio to inspect the particular panel that had caught my attention.

"Let me make sure I'm getting this right." Beckett said. "You lured Hayley here under false pretences, offered her drugs, got into a heated argument, and you're telling me she walked out of that door alive?"

"When did you replace the panel on this baffle?" I called out.

"Well, I don't think it's even been replaced." Bree replied.

"Yeah, it has." I informed her. "It's newer than the other ones.

I started pulling on the panel.

"Could you be careful, please?" Bree said. "That's expensive equipment."

I pulled open the panel and found a strip of tape had been placed on the wall. I reached out and pulled off the tape. I found what looked like a bullet hole.

"Castle, what are you doing?" Beckett demanded.

I looked over to Beckett.

"Apparently, I'm uncovering a bullet hole." I informed her.

At my announcement Beckett's face creased into a small frown. She came over to me and inspected the bullet hole that I had uncovered.

"Judging from the diameter of the hole, it's a .38." Beckett stated.

"That gunpowder residue on Hayley's hand? This is where the gun was fired." I said.

Beckett looked at me and nodded her head in agreement. A small smile rose to her lips as she turned and faced Bree Busch. A moment later Beckett informed the other woman that she was being placed under arrest for the murder of Hayley Blue. The colour drained from Bree's face.

XXX

An anxious looking Bree Busch was sitting in the interrogation room with an equally anxious look husband Ian, sitting beside her on one side and on the other was her lawyer. Beckett was seat across from Bree.

I was standing in the observation room with Captain Montgomery watching the interrogation. Bree had been denying she had killed Hayley Blue from the moment she had been put in the room.

Beckett had asked about the bullet hole I had found in the studio.

"I have no idea how that bullet hole got there." Bree insisted.

Beckett said that she and Hayley had fought because Bree knew that if Hayley walked out the door, Bree would not see her again, and so Bree grabbed her from behind. Hayley pulled out the gun. Bree was scared and so in the struggle she held Hayley tight. A shot went off, and Bree held Hayley even tighter still. And before Bree knew what had happened, Hayley had stopped struggling. Beckett told Bree that she had broken Hayley's neck without realising it.

That was the theory Beckett and I had come up with on the drive back to precinct after Bree had been arrested and handed over to the uniforms that Beckett had called in after arresting Bree. The theory seemed to fit the evidence that we had.

"That's not what happened." Bree insisted. "That's not what happened at all."

"If it was an accident, if it was an act of self defence, you're going to make this all easier on yourself just by telling us the truth." Beckett told her.

"She's going to do twenty years instead of pleading out and doing five." Captain Montgomery remarked sadly. I glanced at the captain.

"Guilty conscience or lousy lawyer?" I asked.

Captain Montgomery shrugged his shoulders.

Both of us continued to look into the observation room.

"Bree, please. I can't lose you for twenty years." Ian pleaded with his wife.

Bree turned to look at her husband.

"I can't lie! I didn't hurt her! That's not what happened."

There were exasperated looks on the faces of Ian and the lawyer at Bree's response.

"Guess it's up to the lawyers now." Captain Montgomery announced as he reached for the button on the speak next to the two way mirror.

"That's not what h..."

The captain switched off the speaker cutting off what Bree was saying. He left the observation room and I continued to stare into the other room. It was not long after that when Beckett wound up the interrogation and formerly charged Bree Busch with the murder of Hayley Blue.

I should have felt happy with this good result but to be totally honest I was not. One of the things that had been weighing heavily on my mind was the thought of Sky. She was out there on her own, not in much condition to handle what was out there. Vulnerable.

Evening had fallen and I was walking along the hallway. Beckett had been busy processing Bree Busch and I felt it was time to head off home. The more I thought about Sky the more my concern for her grew. It just did not seem right to leave her out there on her own to fend for herself.

"You going home to tell Alexis the news?" Beckett asked as she joined me in the hallway.

I stopped walking and glanced at Beckett.

"I just thought I'd go for a walk." I informed her.

"Any place in particular?" Beckett said.

"It kills me to think about her out there alone."

Beckett studied the look on my face, and the look on her face softened a little as if she understood.

"Come on." Beckett announced. "I'll drive."

I nodded my thanks at her offer and followed her over to her desk as she gathered up her things and we headed out. I guess the other reason I was worried about Sky was that she was not that much older than my own daughter and the parental instinct in me had kicked in.

We arrived at the riverside warehouse to find the place in darkness. We stepped out of Beckett's car and switched on the flash lights we had. Slowly we swept the area with the beam of our lights.

"Sky?" Beckett called out.

"Sky?" I also called out. I turned to look at Beckett. "Are you sure Zack said that she was crashing here?"

"Yeah." Beckett confirmed.

On our way over here Beckett had called up Zack demanding to know the whereabouts of Sky. For reasons beyond my comprehension Zack had been able to provide Beckett where Sky could be found. This warehouse.

Our attention was drawn to a sudden rattling of what sounded like a cage. Beckett moved swiftly in the direction where the sound came from. I was right behind her. Beckett's flash light picked up the pathetic looking figure of Sky sitting inside an open cage. She looked a mess, sweating and shivering.

"Sky. Sky! Hey, you okay?" Beckett said as she crouched beside the young woman. "Can you hear me? How much did you take?"

Sky continued to shiver but she slowly looked up at Beckett.

"McGinnis gave us a singing bonus." Sky said in a slurred stuttering voice. "He told us a place we could fix for cheap."

Just hearing McGinnis' name made my blood boil. I managed to control my anger though.

"I couldn't do it." Sky said. "Hayley didn't want me to."

Sky opened her hand to reveal the cash she had been holding.

I must say that I felt a little relived. When I had first saw her I thought that she had shot up with heroine and was suffering the after affects. That was not the case. She was going through withdrawl.

"I'm clean." Sky stated. "She's gonna help me, right? Wherever she is, she's looking out for me, right?"

"She's already doing it." Beckett told the young woman gently.

I started moving in to help Beckett get Sky to her feet.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here."

I had to call in a couple of favours and make a promise or three, but we managed to find a place that would take Sky in. I was more than relieved to know that Sky would not be spending the night out there all alone as she went through withdrawal.

XXX

Alexis was sitting in the living room listening to Hayley Blue's final song while I was in the kitchen making a large bowl of ice cream for her. My darling daughter was down in the dumps and ice cream was usually a sure fire way to perk up her spirits. It usually worked for me.

"Is Sky going to be alright?" Alexis asked.

"I think so." I replied. "The worst part is over. Now she has to figure out the rest of her life."

On returning to the loft I had explained to my daughter the reasons for my lateness. Alexis, bless her, was pleased at what Beckett and I had done.

Putting the last of the topping over the ice cream I picked up the large bowl and made my way into the living room.

"And Hayley?" Alexis said. "The whole thing was just some stupid mistake? It's just so pointless."

I handed the bowl of ice cream over to Alexis.

"I know." I agreed. I settled on the coffee table opposite her. "Sometimes when we lose an artist we like, it's kind of like losing a friend. You know, I remember when John Lennon died, I didn't leave my room for a week."

At the time I had only recently discovered John Lennon and The Beatles. I think I might have found one of Mother's old Beatles albums and let me tell you, I was blown away. There are those who will argue that Paul McCartney was the best of the Beatles, and while I will agree that his songs had that nice poppy, toe-tapping feel to them, with the occasional truly great song. It was John Lennon who was the heart and soul of that group. The true artist. His words painted pictures in a way no other singer-song writer could. For a moment there I wanted to be a singer song writer, just like John. I might have even scratched out some lyrics.

I was devastated on hearing that he had been shot outside the Dakota building. I could not believe it, I didn't want to believe it. And it is true I stayed in my room for a week, listening to Beatles' albums or John's solo albums. I had only bought his _Double Fantasy_ album just a couple of days before he was killed. I also listened to the radio, to all the tribute shows that played John's songs endlessly. It had felt like it was the end of the world. Eventually Mother managed to coax me out of my room.

To this day I always feel a sense of sadness when I pass the Dakota building, and just wonder what might have been.

"She was only 25." Alexis said, drawing me away from my thoughts. "I can't help but think about all the songs she won't write, that we won't get to hear now. And all because her producer thought she was back on drugs. Why would she even think that?"

"You know, when people we care about suddenly turn against us, we can come up with all sorts of reasons to explain it. Who knows what really happened?"

Alexis nodded her head slowly.

"Well, that's it for me." I announced as I rose to my feet. "You staying up?"

"Is it okay?" Alexis asked. "I just want to listen a little longer."

I smiled gentle down at my daughter. "Of course."

I leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead and then started to make my way towards my office.

"I can explain if you're listening." Alexis sang along with the song.

I paused and turned slowly.

"I can explain if you're listening." I repeated.

"What, Dad?" Alexis asked.

I walked back to Alexis, a small frown on my face.

"She wrote that song a week before she died." I said. "After she left her producers and went to the cops. Maybe she was trying to tell us what was going on...'Locked up in silence, a living hell'."

"Rehab?" Alexis suggested.

"Or her producers." I countered.

"'The loving hand that saved me'." Alexis repeated the lyric.

"Her producers, Bree and Ian." I said. "Wait."

I picked up the the remote and rewound the song and started playing the song in sections.

"What is she saying there, 'It's darkness' or 'His darkness'?" I said.

"_I never asked or wanted to...you stepped across my threshold. How could you?"_

"You stepped across my threshold. How could you?"

I felt a lurch in my stomach as I pondered those lyrics. I did not want to go there but I had a horrible feeling I now knew what Hayley had been saying in that last song of hers. Looking over to Alexis I saw a look of horror cross her face as she stared back at me.

"Oh, God, Dad." she gasped. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial number 2 and put the phone to my ear.

"It means we have the wrong killer." I told my daughter.

I rose from the coffee table and made my way to the office. Beckett answered the call and I wasted little time to tell her what Alexis and I had come up with.

XXX

I got to the precinct early the following day. Well, early for me, before nine o'clock. I had brought with me my ipod on which I had loaded Hayley's last song. I found Beckett in the hallway of the Homicide floor heading for her desk. Last night when I had called to relay my latest theory, Beckett had not exactly bought the theory hook, line and sinker but she had said that would discuss it in the morning. Listening to the song again and again, the more and more I was convinced that I was right. That's why I brought in my ipod to get Beckett to listen to the song again.

"The identity of her killer is in the song?" Beckett asked me, giving me a look that kind of said that she did not really believe me.

"It's right there." I replied holding out the earbuds of the ipod. "Listen."

"I know, I already heard it." Beckett said. She stopped walking and looked at me. "Don't you think that if Hayley knew who was going to kill her, she would have tried to prevent the murder?"

"It never made sense until now." I replied. "Why would she up and disappear when everything seemed to be going so well? It's in the words. She even says it. 'I can explain if you're listening'."

I offered the earbuds and reluctantly she took them and put them on. I started playing the song. Her face creased in a frown as she concentrated on listening to the words of the song. I had already queued the song to the right spot. I watched Beckett carefully. She blinked. Suddenly there was a transformation that swept across her face. She looked across to me. First there was surprise and then there was a look of horror not dissimilar to the expression I had seen on the face of Alexis last night.

Beckett's face hardened as she pulled out the earbuds and handed them back to me. I practically had to run to catch up to her as she stormed to her desk. It did not take very long to get the ball rolling.

A couple of hours later Beckett was leading a very relieved looking Bree Busch and her husband Ian into one of the conference rooms. I was bringing up the rear. The moment I laid eyes on Ian I wanted to sock him on the nose. Thankfully, I did not do it. Beckett would not have appreciated such actions. Normally I am not a violent man, unless if I'm playing _Halo_ or _Call of Duty, _but I really did want to hit that man for what he had done. It took a lot of self control I have to tell you.

"Just like that, I'm free to go?" Bree said with a little laugh.

"Just like that." Beckett replied smoothly. "We need to sign a few release forms, if you don't mind."

"I can't believe it, thank God." Ian added, smiling.

Beckett motioned the Buschs to sit down as she closed the door to the conference room.

"Thank you so much." Bree said happily. "Does this mean you found the real killer?"

"We're about to make an arrest." Beckett informed her.

I had to keep a straight face at that remark. It was a good one, I must say.

"That's great." Bree smiled.

I had already taken my seat at the conference table and looked across to where the Buschs were sitting, close together, holding hands.

"You know, what's even better is that it was Hayley herself who led us to her killer." I informed them. Beckett took her seat beside me.

"How'd she do that?" Bree looked a little confused.

"Her last song." I explained. "The one that was playing the night she died. It's all over the web. You know it."

I picked up the remote that was sitting on the table and pointed it in the direction of the stereo system that was sitting under the window of the room. I pressed the play button. A moment later, Hayley's voice came through the speakers.

"_Inside this life, under a spell."_

"Mmm. It's the lyrics that really get me, so many layers." I remarked. "It took me a few listens to get to the bottom of them."

"First time I heard it, I thought it was about going into rehab." Beckett added.

"It is." Ian said. "It's coming from a dark place and having the courage to get on with your life."

"Different dark place." I said. "Listen, this is the part that gives it away."

"_I never asked or wanted to. You stepped across my threshold. How could you?"_

"I don't understand." Bree said, looking a little confused.

"Someone crossed her threshold. She didn't want him to." I offered in a helpful tone.

"Someone forced himself on her." Beckett explained.

I glanced across the table and saw that Ian was beginning to look a little pale. He tried to shake it off.

"You're getting all that from a song?" He said.

"Well, there are other places where it's more overt." I told him. "But if you listen to the words, analyse them, it's all there. Father figure, betrayal, violation. It's truly awful."

"Why didn't she say anything?" Bree looked at her husband. "Ian did she ever say anything to you."

"No, no, she didn't." Ian replied hurriedly.

Beckett looked at Bree.

"You told your husband about arguing with Hayley the night she was killed, didn't you?" She said.

"Yes. He was there when I got home." Bree replied. "I told him the whole thing. I was so upset, I took a sleeping pill to get some rest."

I turned my attention to Ian. He was looking very pale as he sat there.

"That's when you borrowed your wife's cell phone and her brand new lipstick." I said, and then allowed a small smile to appear on my face. "It's a good thing we subpoenaed your wife's phone records when I had this whole crazy lyric idea. Otherwise, we might have missed out on those texts you sent Hayley."

"What texts?" Bree said looking even more confused.

"Text messages from your phone at 11:52." Beckett replied. She consulted a sheet in front of her and read out the text message. "'Ian told me the whole thing. We have to talk right away. Meet me at the studio'."

"I never sent that text." Bree declared.

"11:52, 'I'm sorry for what he did to you. I'm leaving him. Please come and talk to me.' And then finally at 11:56, a reply from Hayley. 'See you there.'"

Bree turned to stare at her husband.

"What did you do?"

Ian had lapsed into silence as he realised that he had been caught.

"'The loving hand that saved me held too tight.'" I said. "He pretended to be you. Because he was the one who had forced himself on Hayley. He was afraid that she was going to talk. So he pretended. By the time Hayley realised that it was Ian waiting for her at the office, it was too late."

"Ian? Ian!" Bree shouted.

Suddenly the colour returned to Ian Busch's pale face. He glared at Beckett and me and said that he did not force himself on Hayley. She had seduced him. From the time she had moved in to their place, the way she had talked to him, they way she had touched him. And after all he had done for her, she was going to make up a lie to destroy his marriage and ruin his business? He was not going to allow that to happen.

"So you snapped her neck." I said, my voice hardening. "The gun didn't do her any good, did it? You were too strong. Just like the night when you assaulted her. You killed her. And you almost got away with it. But Hayley wouldn't shut up, would she?"

"That's pretty smart." Beckett continued. "Staging the crime scene like the video stalker, making it look like someone else did it."

"She loved you like a father." Bree said, looking horrified at her husband. "The way she looked up to you, it made me love you more. Look at me!"

Ian refused to look at his wife.

"I'd like a lawyer now." Ian said in a low voice.

A shocked Bree Busch could not get away from her husband fast enough. There was a moment where I thought she would turn on him and attack him. She did not though. Beckett motioned to a uniform who had stationed himself outside the conference room once we had gone in earlier. I have to say that there was a bit of satisfaction to watch as the handcuffs were slapped on Ian Busch's wrists while Beckett informed him that he was being charged with the murder of Hayley Blue, and then read him his rights.

The uniform was less than subtle as he hauled the dirt bag out of the conference room and to a holding cell. He certainly ignored Busch's complaint about the cuffs being too tight. Now, I'm sure it was just coincidence, really, but the uniform who had come in to take away Busch just happened to be the father of three beautiful daughters. He had shown me photographs of them just a few days ago when we were both in the break room getting coffee and we got to talking about our kids. I could not help but look over at Beckett, silently questioning her. Beckett maintained an inscrutable expression on her face in response.

XXX

A little later that day Captain Montgomery caught up with us, or I should say he we caught up with him to update him on the case. We were walking through the hallway towards the bullpen.

"Bree turned on her husband the moment she found out what he had done to Hayley." Beckett reported. "Needless to say, she's filed for divorce."

"It's no wonder Hayley couldn't tell Bree, why she ran away." I added.

"You see, she didn't have anyone to talk to." Beckett continued. "So she did the one thing she could. She wrote about it."

"You know it kind of reminds me of when I wrote _When It Comes To Slaughter_. It was at a time in my life when I was just trying to work through..."

The Captain had stopped walking just outside his office and so did Beckett. They exchanged looks between them. I noticed their looks.

"...Not important." I said finishing up quickly.

"So is he going to plead out?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"Oh he can try." Beckett replied with a small grin. "Perlmutter ran his coat and found the same gunpowder residue that he had found on Hayley. He's going away for a long time."

"Good." Captain Montgomery replied nodding his head. He started to walk away but paused and turned back. "Nice job, both of you." He added before walking into his office.

There was a smile on Beckett's face. I got the impression that the captain's praise meant a lot to her. Truth be told, I kind of liked being praised by the Captain too. It certainly meant a lot to me. The smile on her face did not last long. It had gone by the time she turned and looked at me.

"So what are you going to tell, Alexis?"

"What I always tell her." I replied. "The truth."

I took my leave of Beckett and headed for the elevator to head home and break the news to my daughter about what had happened. That and the fact I did not want to sit around and watch Beckett doing paperwork. Actually, I don't think she would have wanted me to sit around and watch her doing paperwork.

XXX

A couple of nights later in a little street in East Village which had been blocked off, a stage had been set up and a large crowd had gathered to hear Sky Blue and her band in a tribute concert for Hayley Blue. Alexis, Mother, Beckett and I were there too, standing close to the stage enjoying the concert and remembering a life cut short.

As I listened to a much healthier looking Sky Blue singing her sister's last ever song, I was transported back to a time and place where I was no older than Alexis, to a place in Central Park where with thousands of other people we had gathered to commemorate and celebrate the life and career of a man born in Liverpool in England whose words and music made such an impact in our lives.

XXXXX

_**There you have it the end of another Case File. Let me know what you thought about it by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The Case of Kill The Messenger 

Part 1

Sometimes a reputation can be important, it can send a career hurtling through the stratosphere. For example a talented but young writer can struggle to break into the world of literature. But in the hands of a skilful agent this young but talented writer can be turned into the hottest, hippest thing in the murder mystery genre not to mention the most ruggedly handsome. With the right kind of publicity and with some pneumatic blonde eye candy hanging off his arm as they attend the latest hot night spot or film premier, and the photos published on Page Six and the leaking of a carefully crafted story, well sales can shoot through the roof again and again.

For some people reputation is everything. Especially when it comes to a family name, especially if that family name is old and monied. Sometimes it is the be all and end all. And sometimes such people or certain individuals within that family will go to any length to protect that reputation from anything that will harm it or ruin it completely. Sometimes even to the point of murder.

It was mid morning when I emerged from my office having completed several chapter outlines for the Nikki Heat book I was working on and found Mother and Alexis sitting at the kitchen counter working on a laptop. I went over and made myself a cup of coffee.

"Well. that was easy." Mother said in a cheerful tone. "What do we do next?"

"Set up your profile." Alexis explained. "Name? Martha Rodgers. Sex? Female. Race?"

"Colour blind." Mother shot back. She must have gotten a look from my darling daughter because I heard her add. "Why should I categorise myself? Shades of grey darling, shades of grey darling."

"Age?"

"Ageless. No, better yet, timeless."

I had come over to the counter and began to finish off the bowl of cereal I had.

"You don't want to put that." I informed Mother. "Makes you sound like you belong in a museum."

"Oh, you have a point." Mother agreed. She looked at Alexis. "I know, type in 'old enough'."

"Nice." I said. "So what are you ladies doing?"

"Alexis is assisting me in creating a MyFace account."

I looked at Mother with some amusement. "I think you mean..."

"Save your breath." Alexis interjected. "I've been correcting her all morning."

"Well, it's my face, isn't it? It's not your face or someone else's face." Mother insisted. "Well, anyway. My fellow cast members have been raving about what fun it is, what a great networking tool it is, so, here I am."

It was amusing to find Mother dipping her toe into the world of social media. Her idea of networking had always consisted of parties that involved copious amounts of alcohol.

"And now you just need to select a photo for your profile page." Alexis announced.

Mother reached for the photos that she had in a folder in front of her.

"Should we go dramatic? Or commercial? Or sassy?" Mother asked as she held up each photo.

All three photographs that Mother held up were casting photos of her taken in a time when colour photography had yet to be invented.

"Don't you have anything from this century?" I inquired carefully.

"Why? You think the hair is a bit dated?" Mother asked.

I picked up my empty bowl and made my way across to the sink. I also moved out of range just in case Mother chose a physical form of retaliation.

"Not exactly what I was getting at." I said.

"Uh-huh. I know what you were getting at." Mother replied, shrewdly. "You're no spring chicken yourself, you know. Have you looked in the mirror lately? I have two words for you, 'hairline' and receding'."

I immediately crouched down and reached for the toaster to check my reflection with a little concern creasing my face.

"Ha! Made you look." Mother said with a laugh.

"She totally got you Dad." Alexis laughed.

I am not really so vain that merely hearing those two words, 'hairline' and 'receding' would have me reaching for the nearest mirror. I'm not, really. However, I do have a luxuriant head of hair, one that I am rather proud of, that people have remarked upon, complimented me even. A quick inspection using the polished side of the toaster revealed that there was no cause for alarm. I rose to my feet and wiggled my scalp. A little party trick I have, that makes it appear that I am wearing a toupee.

I was spared any further slings and arrows about my coiffure from my two favourite red heads by the sudden ringing of my phone. I broke into a smile upon seeing the caller ID.

"Yes, Beckett." I said in a most cheerful tone of voice on answering her call. "Either there's a dead body or you just want to hear my sultry voice."

I will admit that I was hoping for answer B; 'hear my sultry voice'. Beckett's dulcet toned voice went with answer A.

"Dead body it is." I said wincing with disappointment. "Where?"

Beckett informed me where the location of the dead body and I was a little surprised to discover that it was not all that far away from home. I did not tell her that. I merely informed Beckett that I was on my way.

XXX

I arrived on scene to find Detectives Esposito and Ryan already there. The body lay on the side of the road half covered with a sheet. A mangled bicycle lay a short distance away. Parts of the road had been blocked off by a series of blue coloured saw horses. CSU people were already hard at work, taking photos of the body and doing what CSU people were trained to do, gathering evidence. There were a few uniforms also on scene and were already taking statements from those people who had witnesses the hit and run. That was the conclusion Esposito had drawn after inspecting the body. Ryan made a few notes in his note pad before moving off to speak to one of the uniforms who had been first on the scene.

Detective Kate Beckett arrived a few minutes later. She pulled up on the other side of the street and came over.

"You got here fast, Castle." Beckett remarked when she joined us.

"My side of town." I explained.

Beckett nodded her head before she turned to Esposito.

"So, what do we got?" She asked.

I looked over to Esposito. "May I?"

"Be my guest." Esposito replied, holding out his folder where he had made some notes.

"Thank you." I said before I consulted his notes. "Our victim's name is Caleb Shimky..."

"Shimansky." Esposito corrected.

"Is that a name?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's a name."

I nodded. From out of the corner of my eye I caught Beckett grinning with some amusement. I ploughed on regardless.

"And he was pulling a Kevin Bacon in _Quicksilver_ when all of a sudden..."

"I'm sorry, a what?" Beckett interrupted, looking confused.

"_Quicksilver."_

Beckett shook her head, not understanding what I had said.

"Kevin Bacon is a bike messenger who failed as a..."

Beckett gave me one of her looks before she turned to Esposito.

"Esposito, take him to school." She ordered.

"The victim is Caleb Shimansky, an on-duty bike messenger. A masked suspect in a black four door ploughs into him, killing him instantly. Then the suspect steals the messenger bag, jumps in his ride and jets off." Esposito reported, looking a little bit too smug for my liking. Sort of like he had pleased the teacher and I had not. I was half expecting a 'nah, nah, nah, nah' to come out of his mouth.

During Esposito's briefing Beckett had crouched down to take a closer look at the body. She looked up at me when Esposito had finished his report.

"See, that wasn't so hard." She said.

"No, no, it's good, if you like the dull, non-best-seller version." I shrugged.

"I thought I gave it some flair." Esposito said smugly.

"I'm assuming we have plenty of witnesses?" Beckett said as she rose to her feet and looked about taking the scene.

"Several." Esposito agreed. "Three of them got the suspect's license plate number."

"Aw, man, it's like having a cheat code." I complained. "You've got multiple witnesses and a license plate. It's going to take you all of what, five minutes, to solve it?"

I have to say I was a little upset at finding that this case would be solved in next to no time. I was hoping for something to sink my teeth into, something to tax my faculties.

Ryan came over and joined our little group.

"Ran the suspect's plates." He announced. "The car was reported stolen about an hour ago."

Maybe I spoke too soon?

"A masked man in a stolen car." I mused aloud. "Our thief planned this and obviously wanted what was in that messenger bag."

"Something our vic was delivering. A package or a box." Ryan suggested.

"Contact the courier company, I want to know what was in that bag." Beckett ordered.

I looked down at our dead guy. "What ever it was, it was important enough to kill the messenger."

I thought it was a pretty good quip under the circumstances. For my efforts I received a roll of Beckett's eyes, though I think I detected a hint of a grin on her face before she turned to Esposito and told him to conduct a canvas of the area to see what might come up.

XXX

On the ride to the precinct I began to speculate as to what was in the bag that was taken from the bike messenger. Beckett humoured me for a little while. I am sure I heard a sigh of relief come out of her when we arrived at the precinct.

Captain Montgomery seemed a little distracted when Beckett and I eventually walked into his office to brief him on the case. I parked myself on his couch while Beckett remained standing. There was all manner of files and papers strewn across his desk, par for the course of being a precinct captain I suppose. He was working on a report.

"We got an APB out on the car." Beckett informed the Captain. "But, Esposito and Ryan got nothing on the canvas.

"Do we know what was in the package?" Captain Montgomery asked without looking up from the work he was doing.

"The courier company is looking into it right now. Whatever it was, somebody thought it was worth killing for." Beckett replied.

I saw my opportunity to resume the speculation that I had started back in Beckett's car.

"Off the top of my head, I'm going to go with nuclear launch codes.., Dick Cheney's soul on its way to the devil..." I offered.

"All good theories, Castle." Captain Montgomery replied as he continued working. "All good theories."

Beckett settled herself down in the chair in front of the captain's desk.

"Um, sir, are you okay? You seem a little distracted." Beckett said.

Captain Montgomery slowly put his pen down and looked over to Beckett. A frown creased his face.

"No, I'm focused." He said. "Focused on the precinct being up for review and our case closure rate being just under 1PP's new mandated minimum. Which, of course, doesn't take the budget cuts into consideration. Now the hell am I supposed to catch more bad guys with fewer detectives?"

Before Captain Montgomery could continue his rant against the brass at 1 Police Plaza he was interrupted by the arrival of Esposito.

"Yo, Cap. Courier company said the vic only had one package in his bag. Picked up from 2739 West 2nd apartment 3-C. Sent by one S. Nidal Mittar. I ran it through the system. There's a Shakir Nidal Mattar on the terror watch list. Could be the same guy." Esposito said.

"Where was the package going?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"614 East 72nd Street." Esposito announced as he passed the captain a sheet of paper.

"East 72nd. That's the 64th Precinct."

"Sir, that could be an attack." Beckett interjected.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the office changed dramatically. Captain Montgomery rose to his feet shaking off the stats induced lethargy, his rant about the iniquities of 1PP dictates forgotten. Everyone was reaching for phones. Except for me, that is.

"I need a full tactical alert. Have them evacuate the building." Captain Montgomery barked out.

"I'll coordinate with Homeland Security." Esposito said as he stuck his cell phone to his ear.

"This is Detective Beckett. We have a possible terrorist attack against the 64th." Beckett said into her phone.

"Yeah, this is Captain Roy Montgomery. I need to speak to your task force commander..." The captain said into his phone.

I got caught up in the excitement of the situation even though I was still sitting on the couch and watching the other three in the office.

"Hell yeah." I muttered.

"I need to speak to your command centre right now." Esposito said into his phone.

"Get ESU over to the pick up address." Captain Montgomery ordered to his people.

Beckett and Esposito did not need to acknowledge their captain's order they just started moving towards the door. I was on my feet in an instant.

"All units on alert. All units on alert." Beckett shouted into her phone.

"Yeah, this is Montgomery of the 12th..." I heard the captain shout into his phone as I headed out of his office.

XXX

An hour or so later Beckett and I as well as the boys met the waiting ESU team around the corner from the location where the package had been sent from. Esposito and Ryan were right behind us. Jumping out of the car Beckett popped the trunk. I reached down and picked up her vest and passed it to her and then picked up my own vest. Esposito and Ryan were doing the same over by their car. Esposito also pulled out an automatic assault rifle.

The leader of the ESU TAC-team approached with his 2IC. Beckett quickly briefed the TAC-team leaders about the situation and the location of the apartment. The TAC-team members returned to their people to brief them and get ready for the assault on the apartment.

Beckett as per usual asked me to stay in the car and once again I ignored her request but promised to stay well behind everyone. It was a compromise of sorts and she agreed to it with a nod of her head.

About fifteen minutes later the assault team was assembled out the front door of apartment 3-C. I was located some distance down the hallway, well away from anything that might remotely be dangerous. That's where Beckett told me to stand, in other words.

On a silent signal from Beckett the TAC-team leader ordered his people to move. A moment later one of the TAC-team members brought up a large hand held battering ram, known in some circles as 'the key'. One swing and there was a loud crack as the door fell forward and crashed to the floor. Two TAC members poured through the door followed by Esposito. There came a lout of shouting and the screeching of outraged cats at the sudden intrusion and noise.

"NYPD! Show me your hands!"

"NYPD! Hands! Hands!"

"Where's Nidal Mattar?" Esposito shouted.

Beckett entered the apartment and I was right with her. I was a little taken aback to find Esposito pointing his rifle at an old lady who was sitting on an armchair and shouting at her. She was attached to an oxygen cylinder. Her hands were raised in the air, a look of deep fear in her eyes. A terrorist she was not.

"Shakir Nidal Mattar, where is he?" Esposito shouted.

"There's no Shakir Nidal Mattar here!" The old lady shouted back. "Only Sally Niedermeyer."

Beckett stepped up to Sally.

"Mam, did you send a package by bike courier this morning?" Beckett asked.

"Yes, I did." Sally nodded her head.

Beckett rolled her eyes as she turned to look at Esposito.

"S. Nidal Mattar, S Niedermeyer. Some bozo at the courier company wrote the name wrong."

"Our bad." I said stepping back to where Sally's front door lay. "I'm going to...We can..."

I reached down and started lifting the door.

"Yeah, we can fix this." Ryan added as he moved over and helped me lift up the door and manoeuvre it back into place.

As Ryan and I were lifting up the door I did notice that the members of the TAC team were looking a little contrite at having busted down an old lady's front door. Esposito too suddenly found his rifle of more interest. I would hasten to say that he was trying to avoid one of Beckett's Death Glares that was being shot in his direction.

Beckett being the person in charge of this assault, it fell to her to apologise for the intrusion. Sally was nice about it, I have to say. Well she was after she had finally recovered from the shock. I guess a couple of the boys fixing the door would have certainly helped her disposition too. Sally offered us some tea. After what we had done to her front door, I thought it was the least we could do, accept her hospitality. Ryan, Esposito and I sat down on Sally's couch to wait the arrival of the tea. The moment we sat down on the couch we were assaulted by Sally's cats who decided to get their own back for our unexpected arrival.

Now you might be wondering who made the tea? Well it was not Sally. She was not exactly highly mobile being attached to the oxygen cylinder. It was Beckett who made the tea. Actually, she offered to make the tea. You would think that watching her making tea would have been something highly amusing. Under normal circumstances it would have been but there was not a twitter from either Ryan, Esposito or myself. Before she had gone into the kitchen to make the tea, Detective Beckett levelled her most lethal Death Glare on all three of us. It spoke silent volumes and one which we all read and understood completely.

I made idle chit chat with Sally while waiting for the tea to arrive and petting the cat that had staked a claim in my lap while also trying to prevent it from using my lap as a pin cushion. Thankfully the tea arrived and the cat in my lap had settled down. Once again the boys and I received another patterned Beckett Death Glare. There were a number of quips that I wanted to fire off at her as she handed out the cups of tea. Something along the lines that she would make someone a wonderful wife one of these days. She knew I wanted to, so hence the Death Glare of warning.

With the tea taken care of Beckett took a seat close to Sally's armchair and proceeded to ask her a few questions.

"Mrs Neidemeyer, somebody stole the courier bag that your package was in." Beckett informed her. "And in the course of the crime, a bike messenger was killed."

"Oh, that's terrible." Sally replied, sounding shocked at the news.

"Yeah, we are trying to figure out why they stole the bag. You sent it to the 64th Precinct, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell us what was in the package?"

"No."

"No?" Beckett questioned.

"No." Sally repeated.

"No, you don't want to? Or no, you don't remember or know what's in the package?" I asked.

"Yes." Sally replied as she looked to me. "To the second part. The...I don't know part."

"Where did you get the package?" Beckett asked.

"From my favourite nephew, Brady." Sally said with a beaming smile.

"Okay, where can we find, Brady?" Beckett asked her.

The smile vanished from Sally's face as she looked at Beckett.

"In prison."

"Prison, prison?" I asked with some surprise. "When did he give you the package?"

"Ten years ago, just before they sent him upstate." Sally informed us. "Brady came over, handed me a package, and then he said 'Mema, take good care of this package. Don't tell anyone about it. And never , ever open it." There was a proud look on Sally's face as she said this.

"Then why all of a sudden would you messenger it?" I said, still looking confused.

"Brady called about 7:30 this morning and asked me to send it right away to the man it was addressed to." Sally told us. Her face darkened with the first cloud of anger. "To the man who arrested him ten years ago...Detective Roy Montgomery."

I don't know who was more surprised by this sudden revelation. My companions on the couch and I

froze for a moment at the mention of the captain's name. This was something none of us saw coming. I looked over to where Beckett was sitting there was an uncomfortable look on her face.

"It's Captain Montgomery now." Beckett said carefully.

"Oh! You know him?" Sally shot back.

"Yeah." Beckett nodded. "He's our boss."

That little piece of news made Sally a little uncooperative and Beckett wisely decided not to push the matter any further and wound up the interview. The boys and I made sure to finish our teas before we too got to our feet. The TAC-team boys had finished repairing Sally's front door and it was now good as new which seemed to please her a little bit. Beckett thanked her for her time and once again apologised for the way we had come in. Then we all beat a hasty retreat.

On returning to the precinct Beckett ordered Esposito to contact the prison and see if he could talk to Brady Thomson and find out what was in the package that he had his aunt sent by messenger. Beckett and I proceeded straight to Captain Montgomery's office to brief him on what had happened at Sally's apartment.

"Package was coming to me?" Captain Montgomery asked with surprise. He was standing at his desk.

"Yeah." Beckett replied. She was propped against the captain's desk while I had claimed one of the chairs.

"What was his name again?" Captain Montgomery said, a frown on his face.

"Brady Thompson. It was when you were a detective with the six-four." Beckett replied.

"Oh yeah." The Captain nodded. "It's ringing some bells. But why would he send me a ten year old package?"

"Esposito is on the phone with Corrections. He's trying to get an interview."

"Do you recall anything about him?" I asked Captain Montgomery.

"He killed a lady. A push-in robbery gone bad." The captain replied. "Open and shut case. I think we even got a confession out of him."

"The aunt said that he was pretty insistent about getting the package directly to you. Do you know why that would be?" Beckett said.

I noticed Esposito enter the office.

"You would have to ask him." Captain Montgomery said.

"Not unless you perform a séance. He's dead." Esposito interjected. "He got shanked in prison this morning."

I looked from Esposito to the Captain.

"This morning? That's no coincidence." I said.

The captain became animated.

"Have Records pull everything from the old case." He said to Esposito. "If memory serves, Brady was married when he went away. See if the wife is still the wife and if she knows anything."

Esposito nodded his head and left the office. Montgomery then turned his attention to Beckett.

"Beckett, call the warden. I want to see what they know about Brady's murder. And I need copies of all his phone calls. I want to know exactly what he said to Aunt Sally and to anyone else for that matter."

Beckett nodded her head. "Okay." She reached for her phone.

Ryan poked his head into the office.

"Hey, Beckett. Paisley Shimansky is here to see you." He said in a voice that was almost apologetic for interrupting.

Beckett lowered her phone and killed the call. She looked across to where the captain was standing.

"It's the bike messenger's sister." Beckett explained. "Excuse me."

Beckett left the Captain's office and walked to her desk where Paisley Shimansky was sitting with a female uniform standing beside her.

I walked over to the doorway and looked out. Captain Montgomery joined me. Together we watched as Beckett broke the news to the other woman about the death of her brother. Beckett was leaning in her chair close to the other woman, speaking to her in a low voice. I felt for that young woman whose world had suddenly been turned upside through no fault of her own. I watched with admiration and awe at the way Beckett spoke to Paisley Shimansky. And I asked aloud the same question I found myself always asking when I witnessed such scenes.

"How does she do that?"

"Better than anyone I know." Captain Montgomery replied in a soft voice that mirrored my own awe and admiration.

I drew my gaze from Beckett and looked at the Captain. He looked unhappy and troubled.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Her brother died trying to get something to me. No, I'm not okay." Captain Montgomery replied tersely.

XXXXX

_**Send me your thoughts about this chapter, I'd love to hear what you think.**_

_**Con **_


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The Case of Kill The Messenger's

Part 2

A couple of hours later Beckett and I were back in the Captain's office. The prison had sent over copies of the recordings of Brady's telephone calls. Beckett and the Captain were sitting at the front of the captain's desk. On the desk was a recorder which Beckett had placed on which she had downloaded the recordings of the telephone conversations.

"The prison sent over the last two phone calls Brady made." Beckett said as she pressed the play button.

"_Can I just put it in the mail?" _Aunt Sally's voice said.

"_No Aunt Sally, you've got to take it down there yourself."_ Brady Thompson said.

"_My hip's been acting up again."_

"_Then call a messenger service. I'll pay you back, okay?"_

"_Alright, I'll take care of it."_

"_I've got to go now, okay?"_

"_Take care now, Brady. Love you."_

"_I love you too, Mema. I...I got to go."_

Beckett reached over and stopped the tape.

"At 7:23 he makes a call to his wife." Beckett informed us and then pressed the play button again.

"_Val?"_ Brady asked.

"_Hey baby." _Came the voice of Valerie Thompson, Brady's wife.

"_Val, listen to me. Remember what we talked about last time you visited?"_

"_I remember."_

"_It's going down today. You and Jarred get out of the house now."_

"_Brady..."_

"_There's not time to talk. Just go. Everything's going to be all right. Give Jarred a kiss from Dad, okay? I love you."_

"_I love you too. Bye."_

Beckett stopped the recording and looked over to the captain. She frowned a little.

"Brady was killed forty-five minutes after those two phone calls." She said.

"Yeah, but we don't have a why or a who." Captain Montgomery mused.

"Or a how it's related to your mystery package." I said to the captain.

Captain Montgomery nodded his head in agreement. He looked across to Beckett.

"Warden have any suspects?" He asked.

"A whole prison yard full." Beckett said with a shrug. "He was shanked in the yard. There were no witnesses. Warden's less than optimistic about catching the killer."

"Brady have any beefs?"

"Apparently, he was a model prisoner."

"Then it must have been a hit ordered from the outside." Montgomery surmised.

"By the same guys who killed the messenger." I suggested.

Esposito strolled into the office. Captain Montgomery looked over to Esposito.

"Any luck on tracking Brady's wife?" He asked.

Esposito shook his head. "Big fat zero." Esposito replied. "But they left the apartment in a hurry. I pinged the cell phones, tracked credit cards. She's off the grid."

Ryan entered the office and caught the tail end of what Esposito reported.

"Maybe not completely." He interjected. "I just got off the phone with the son's school. According to the principal, Brady's kid misses class every Tuesday because he's got some respiratory condition."

Captain Montgomery's face brightened a little. "Tomorrow's Tuesday. You get the doctor's name?"

Ryan nodded his head to indicate that he did.

"Let's set up on the office in the morning." Captain Montgomery ordered. "We might get lucky."

Beckett, the boys and I trooped out of the office and headed to the bullpen. There was not much that could be done at this hour of the evening and Beckett decided to call it a night. Before she sent the boys home she told them to go straight to the doctor's office first thing, hopefully Brady's wife would make an appearance. I headed home to the loft.

XXX

I arrived home to find Mother sitting on the couch with a laptop open.

"What are you doing, Mother?" I inquired cheerfully. "Working on your play?"

"Oh I wish." Mother replied with a sigh. "I've been bombarded with friend requests."

I reached the couch and took the empty wine glass that Mother held up for me to collect and replenish. I took the empty over to the kitchen bench where an open bottle of wine was standing and refilled her glass and poured one for myself.

"It's like a part time job. And these exchanges are ridiculous." Mother intoned. "Dot Ellison, who I have absolutely no desire to reconnect with, has just wasted twenty minutes of my life recounting the bravery of her cat passing a kidney stone."

I could not help but laugh at that.

"Well it could have been worse." I chuckled. "She could have sent you a video."

"Joining up with this fad was a terrible mistake. Nothing good comes of the internet."

I returned from the kitchen with our wine and as I was passing over Mother's glass her laptop beeped.

"Oh, you just got another friend request." I informed her, glancing at the screen.

Mother turned her attention to the laptop screen.

"Oh my God!" She gasped. "Chet Palaburn!"

"Who's Chet Palaburn?" I inquired with some curiosity.

"Star athlete, class president, homecoming king. My high school sweetheart." Mother replied in a wistful tone of voice. "And my first!"

"I really did not need to know that last part." I told Mother.

What child wants to know about the sex life of their parent or parents? There are countless psychologists putting their kids through college as a result of patients traumatised by such things.

"Oh, oh, he sent a message with his request. 'I'm living in New York now and would love to see you Martha, you haven't changed a bit.'" Mother read out. She smiled brightly. "Oh, Chet Palaburn" Can you believe it? And did you see that message?"

"You do know that Chet's comments are based on a twenty year old photo?" I said.

"Oh, oh. Well, should I accept his friend request? I mean, the last time I laid eyes on him, I was 18.

And, now he sees this photo. And now this, and...what should I do?" Mother said hurriedly and nervously as she looked to me.

I was a little surprised to see Mother so unsure of herself and hesitant. It was a very rare occurrence.

I was used to this over the top diva. Mother had insecurities like all the rest of us. Being an actress most of her insecurities were stage and screen related. Her other securities were hidden well behind the persona, the mask, she pulled on every day to face the world with. This hesitancy I was witnessing had to do with her first love. I could understand how she was reacting.

"It's your call." I told her.

I did not know what else to say in the way of advice. As much as I loved Mother I was not all that keen to meddle. I resorted to the only option that I had available.

"My call." Mother said softly.

I eased myself off the back of the couch and started to make my way to my office.

"There's always Dot and her kitty cat's medical mysteries." I call over my shoulder.

XXX

I made my return to the precinct late morning the following day. As I was walking through the bullpen heading towards Beckett's desk I saw Esposito slam down his desk phone.

"Ugh!" Esposito growled as he moved away from his desk.

"Everything okay?" I inquired with some concern as I walked along side him.

"Another dead end in the Messenger case." Esposito reported. "Uniforms located the stolen car that ran him down, but CSU got bupkis. No prints, no hairs."

"It's sounding more and more like a professional hit." I suggested.

"Yeah."

"What about surveillance?" I asked. "Any cameras around where the car was dumped?"

"No, our masked man knew what he was doing."

We came to a stop in the middle of the bullpen. Esposito motioned in the direction of the breakroom.

"Well, at least our trip to the doctor paid off." Esposito said. "Prison vic's wife came in with her son first thing this morning."

I looked in the direction of the break room and saw Ryan sitting with a young boy trying to entertain him.

"Captain and Beckett are interviewing her now." Esposito added.

I looked in the direction of the interview room and saw the victim's wife speaking with Beckett who was sitting close beside her.

"I'm going to go..." I said pointing to the interview room.

"I wouldn't..." Esposito said.

His words fell on deaf ears. I opened the door to the interview room and quietly slipped in and remained near the door. Brady Thompson's wife was named Valerie. She was aged in her mid thirties and judging from her accent she had originally come from one of the islands in the Caribbean but I could not pinpoint exactly which one.

"Do you have any idea who killed him?" Valerie asked.

"We're working on it, Mrs Thompson." Beckett replied. "Do you know anything about a package that your husband asked his Aunt Sally to send out for him yesterday?"

"Yeah. It was his insurance policy. He gave it to her when he went away." Valerie said.

"Insurance policy?" I questioned.

Valerie turned to look at me. "It was proof he didn't kill the woman he was sent to jail for murdering."

"But he confessed." Captain Montgomery pointed out.

Valerie looked at the Captain. "Well, he might have confessed, but he didn't do it." She said heatedly.

"With all due respect, Mrs Thompson, half the men in prison will swear up and down they didn't do it." Captain Montgomery said.

"Do those men's wives get a package in the mail every month with $7,000 cash in it?" Valerie shot back.

That announcement surprised me and it certainly surprised both Captain Montgomery and Beckett as well.

"Uh, your husband confessed to a murder he didn't commit for money?" I said, trying to hide my surprise. Valerie nodded her head.

"I know this will sound crazy, but we didn't know what else to do." Valerie said. "Jarred was born with a rare respiratory disease, and we didn't have any money or the insurance to get him the therapy he needed. If Brady hadn't done what he did, Jarred wouldn't even be here now."

I know well enough that desperate people will do desperate things. Confessing to a crime you didn't commit just so that you can get money to take care of your sick son, yeah I could believe that. A parent will do anything for their child.

"Did Brady ever tell you who actually committed the murder he went away for?" Captain Montgomery asked her.

"No. I...I don't even know if he knew who it was." Valerie said.

"Over ten years, you never asked who his contact was, who approached him, who was paying you? You just conveniently never bothered to ask?" Captain Montgomery said with some disbelief in his voice.

"I asked!" Valerie shouted angrily. "But...but Brady felt the less I knew, the safer I would be. Even the packages didn't have a return address. Look, Captain, my husband was just killed. I'm telling you all I know."

Valerie had become hostile towards Captain Montgomery. She may have been already because it had been Montgomery who had arrested her husband and had sent him away. There was not much more information going to come from her if he continued asking the questions. Beckett had sensed this would have been the case and chose that moment to step in and take the lead.

Beckett asked Valerie a few more questions and Valerie provided what information she knew. About half an hour later she finished up the interview with Valerie Thompson then escorted her and her son out of the building. I think she also made sure that a patrol car was found to take her home.

When Beckett returned to the bullpen we gathered around the murder board. Also joining us was Captain Montgomery.

"Okay, so what we know so far is that about four months ago the payments to Brady started arriving late, short and then, finally, not at all." Beckett announced. "And according to the wife, that's when Brady decided to messenger over his insurance policy, that was supposed to prove his innocence."

"Our patsy, Brady, had to be in communication with whoever was making the payments." Esposito remarked.

"Prison should have a record of everyone Brady talked to." Ryan suggested.

"We already checked his phone logs." Captain Montgomery said. "There's nothing there."

"How about email?" Esposito asked.

"We're running it down." The captain replied.

"Well, whatever Brady said, it worked." I pointed out. "Payments started up again. Then a month ago, nothing."

"You think maybe Brady got fed up with the situation?" Ryan questioned. "Figured if whoever made the deal with wasn't holding up their end of the bargain, why was he?"

"Then he calls up his Aunt Sally, asks her to send evidence that proves his innocence to the arresting officer." Beckett supplied.

"Is it possible someone was monitoring his calls?" I suggested. "I mean, whoever killed our bike messenger had been tipped off the package was in motion."

"The only people that monitor calls are prison staff." Captain Montgomery said.

"$7,000 a month for ten years is almost one million, total." Esposito pointed out. "Whoever we're dealing with obviously has the means to buy someone off.

Captain Montgomery straightened up a little. He looked at Ryan and Esposito.

"Get the duty roster from the prison." He ordered. "See who was working when Brady made his calls."

Esposito and Ryan nodded their heads in acknowledgement of the captain's order turned and headed to their desks to carry out the order. The captain looked at Beckett.

"Set up a protection detail for the wife and kid."

"It's already done, sir." Beckett informed him.

Captain Montgomery started to move to head back to his office but paused and picked up two files from off Beckett's desk. They were files for Caleb Shimansky and Brady Thompson. He looked at the photographs of the two victims that were pinned to the front of the files. There was a troubled look on his face as he stared at the photographs. Beckett stepped up to him.

"Captain you had the confessions, the evidence." She told him. "Anyone would have come to the same conclusion."

"I didn't push hard enough." Captain Montgomery said unhappily. "I knew this case was off. Everything fell into place so perfectly."

I had been looking at the murder board hoping to see if I might spot something that we might have missed before. Also I was giving the Captain and Beckett a bit of privacy. However, I could not help but overhear what the Captain was telling Beckett.

"Now what have we got?" Captain Montgomery continued. "An innocent bystander with no connection to the killer. And without physical evidence, there's no way of tracking who was driving that car. And catching a break on a prison murder? That's a long shot. Especially if you're dealing with a corrupt guard."

"Okay, but we still have the original murder from ten years ago. Everything started there." Beckett said.

Captain Montgomery looked at Beckett sceptically.

"Two fresh bodies, and you want to look at a murder ten years cold?"

I moved away from the murder board and walked the short distance to join Beckett and the Captain.

"Uh...When I'm writing a story, the beginning is always the hardest." I said. "But if you nail that, the rest of it can just fall into place."

Captain Montgomery fixed me with a look.

"Castle, this is not one of your books."

"No, but it is a mystery." I pointed out. "And all mysteries are the same. Motive, opportunity, cover up, conscience." I motioned to the two files in the Captain's hands.

"These murders today were to cover up one ten years ago." I added. I saw Beckett was looking at me. There was a small smile on her face as if she was silently encouraging me to continue.

"That's where your leads are going to be." I continued, trying to gently persuade the Captain. "Come on Captain, what do you say? Let's take a walk down memory lane."

Captain Montgomery was silent for some moments, a thoughtful look on his face. Finally he looked at Beckett. She gave him a small nod of her head. He then looked at me. I did not nod my head but I had a look on my face that was trying to say 'go on, Captain, you've got nothing to lose'.

"Okay." Captain Montgomery announced eventually.

XXX

It was about mid afternoon when the old case files had been located in the archives and brought up. Captain Montgomery, Beckett and I ensconced ourselves in one of the conference rooms to go over the files. Beckett and I were sitting next to each other on one side of the conference table while Captain Montgomery occupied the other side.

Beckett was going through photographs of the murdered woman. There was a portrait shot of the woman that Beckett studied carefully for a few moments before putting it aside and picking another photo, this one of the crime scene.

"Olivia Debiasse, 20 years old." Beckett said. "Neighbours found her bludgeoned to death in her apartment."

"Hmm. There were some things missing from her apartment." I mused as I went through the report I was holding. I looked up from the report. "Whoever killed her tried to make it look like a robbery gone wrong."

Captain Montgomery looked up from the thick file he was reading through.

"There should be something in there about a handyman that we looked at it for." Captain Montgomery said. "You know, he had a criminal record, he worked in the building."

I quickly skimmed through the report in front of me and found what the Captain had been talking about.

"If it was him, I'm in the wrong line of work. $7000 a month for a handyman?" I exclaimed with some surprise.

"We moved off him once we moved on Brady." The Captain reported. "An anonymous tip came in. It felt like a break at the time."

Both Beckett and I looked at Captain Montgomery as he recounted the story.

"Brought him in, leaned on him for what, maybe half an hour before he broke." The Captain said. He glanced down at the report in front of him before looking up at us. "You know, it's funny, I...I...never actually even looked at some of these reports, because once the canvassing detectives turned them in, we already had Brady in custody."

"Well, it says here that Olivia went to a party earlier the night she was killed." Beckett announced as she looked at a report she held in her hand.

"Says here the Pierson Club." Montgomery added.

The mentioning of the Pierson Club caught my attention.

"Pierson Club? That's high society, that's crème de la crème." I announced. "My money goes in banks, their money buys banks."

"Sir, listen to this." Beckett said looking down at the report in front of her. "A waitress gave a statement saying that she saw Olivia having a heated argument with a man at the party."

"The plot thickens." I said with a note of eagerness.

"Mmm-hmm. There's no name, but according to the description she gave, he was in his mid 20s, medium build, wearing a blazer and an orange striped tie." Beckett said.

"Ooh, I don't know about you guys, but I am getting a delicious millionaire playboy vibe here." I said unable to disguise my delight.

"The waitress was under the impression that he arrived with Olivia." Beckett added.

"Olivia's best friend was a gal that she worked with." Captain Montgomery remarked. "Maybe she could tell us who Olivia hung out with."

Ryan came into the conference room. We all turned to look at him.

"Perlmutter just finished reviewing Olivia's autopsy from back in the day." Ryan informed us. "He says he found something."

When the old case files had come up from Archives there was also a copy of Olivia Debiasse's autopsy report. Beckett had suggested that it be sent over to Dr Perlmutter to review it and see what he could come up. Captain Montgomery thought that was a good idea but added that he would send it to the good doctor. The autopsy report would be reviewed a lot quicker if the order came from him. I got the impression that Captain Montgomery had tangled with the prickly medical examiner before and was more than happy to pull rank.

"You guys go to the morgue." Captain Montgomery said, looking at Beckett and me. "I'll follow up on Olivia's friend."

"Thank you, sir." Beckett replied as she got to her feet.

XXX

Beckett and I arrived at the morgue to find Perlmutter enjoying a late lunch. That in itself was not a problem but he was having his lunch while sitting at one of the autopsy tables. The sight of it left me a little disconcerted. Beckett did not give the sight of the medical examiner eating at an autopsy table a second thought. I suppose she must have seen this before.

"I've gone through Ms Debiasse's files and her autopsy was fairly limited." Perlmutter announced in response to Beckett's question as to what he had for us. "I assume when Brady confessed, the ME decided not to be thorough."

"Did he miss something?" Beckett questioned.

"It's hard to say." Perlmutter replied.

"What does your gut tell you?" I prodded.

"My gut tells me I'm hungry but I'm not going to be able to eat until I'm done with you. So why don't I just tell you what my keen ME training tells me?" Perlmutter snapped.

Beckett cast a look in my direction one where she was trying to suppress a grin before she turned back to look at Perlmutter.

"Alright, Brady said he hit Olivia with a baseball bat." Perlmutter motioned to the autopsy photographs from Olivia's file that were sitting beside his food. "But look at these."

The medical examiner rose from his chair and pointed to the photographs. Both Beckett and I looked down at the photos.

"When I look at these wounds and the skull fracture pattern, I'm just not seeing a baseball bat strike." Perlmutter announced.

"Brady lied about killing her, he might have lied about what was used to do it." Beckett surmised as she studied the photographs. She looked across to Perlmutter who had returned to his seat and picked up the sandwich he had been eating. "Can you determined how she was killed?"

"I'd only be speculating." Perlmutter shrugged. "To do it properly, I'd have to X-ray the skull and examine the remains."

My face brightened suddenly at Perlmutter's suggestion.

"You want to exhume the body?" I asked. I could not help but be a little excited, I had never been involved in an exhumation before.

"The only way to do it right." Perlmutter said. "Plus, who knows what else I might find?"

"Olivia was raised by a single mom who's deceased as well, so let me call the next of kin and see what I can do." Beckett announced.

Beckett's phone started ringing. She reached into her jacket and pulled the phone out. She excused herself and stepped out of the room to answer the call. I looked at Perlmutter as he chomped on his sandwich.

"You sure it's sanitary to be eating here?" I ventured.

Perlmutter looked up regarding me for a moment. He waved his hands about to take in the entire room.

"You know the strength of the disinfectants we use here?" He said. "This is the cleanest room in the city."

That was good to know, I thought to myself. Perlmutter lifted up his plate and held it out in my direction, silently offering me a sandwich.

"I couldn't." I replied.

"It's home made."

"I couldn't." I shook my head.

I have to admit that I was feeling a little peckish when I had walked in but the moment I saw Perlmutter eating on the autopsy table my appetite died a quick death. Thankfully before Perlmutter insisted on me taking a sandwich, Beckett had finished her call and rejoined us.

"Caught a break." Beckett announced. "Captain talked to the friend."

"Does she remember who Olivia was with?" I asked.

"Jeff Dilahunt, who's had his fair share of run-ins with the law." Beckett reported. "And he has a trust fund worth millions."

"Enough to pay $7,000 a month." I declared.

"Bingo." Beckett smiled.

"Boo-yah."

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The Case of Kill The Messenger

Part 3

It was mid evening when Beckett and I managed to track down Jeff Dilahunt. We found him in the lobby of the Pierson Club. The club was located in one of the better parts down town. It had an old world feel to it, high ceilinged and columned, upholstered leather armchairs, marble all over the place including the floor where there was no expensive carpet. It reminded me of one of those English gentlemen's clubs but with more gilt but and the same amount of stuffiness and pretension.

Jeff Dilahunt was aged in his early to mid thirties, blonde with an air of cockiness that comes with having a large trust fund. The cocky grin on his face did not exactly endear me to him.

I had met more than my fair share of these types of people and they weren't exactly my kind of people.

He was sitting on a leather upholstered arm chair. I was seated directly opposite him while Beckett was perched on the arm of an armchair.

"I met Olivia at a night club." Jeff informed us. "She hadn't been in town long, but she seemed like a real party girl."

"Were the two of you dating?" Beckett asked.

"Uh, no, just friends." Jeff said.

Both Beckett and I shot him looks of disbelief.

"What? Can't a guy and a girl just be friends?" He exclaimed.

"Please." I scoffed.

Jeff grinned as he looked from me to Beckett.

"Are you two together?" He asked.

"Not yet." I replied.

"Absolutely not." Beckett said at the same time.

I was a little taken aback by my reply. I had not intended to be so honest. Realising I might have said a little too much I tried to keep a straight face. I glanced in Beckett's direction and saw her looking a little uncomfortable as well. I was not sure whether it was because of what she had said in answer to Jeff's question or my answer.

There was an amused look on Jeff's face at our response. It made me feel a little more uncomfortable.

"Look, it was no big deal." Jeff continued letting our responses to his question to slide by. "I happened to mention that a school friend of mine was having a family reunion here at the Pierson Club and asked me to stop by. Olivia really wanted to come, so I took her."

"Who would want to go to someone else's family reunion?" I questioned, having recovered from my discomfort a little more quickly than Beckett.

"Well, I suppose that all depends on the family." Jeff said with a smile. "In this case, it happens to be the Wellesleys."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Wellesleys, Wellesleys? The rich and powerful Wellesleys? The conservative New York Wellesleys?"

"Wasn't that one of our senators?" Beckett asked, looking at me.

"Yeah, he was." I confirmed. "Casper Wellesley. He died early '90s. His kid is running for his seat again this year."

"Well, I'll tell you what. Next time I'm invited, I'll take you." Jeff said with a smug smile as he looked at me.

"Mr Dilahunt, where were you between 10pm and 2am, the night she was killed?" Beckett asked.

Jeff leaned back in his chair and smiled at Beckett. He told her that he and a couple of Wellesley cousins decided to bail early and went clubbing instead. He smiled smugly when he also said there might have been some Bolivian marching powder involved. He and the Wellesley cousins got picked up for public intoxication. Jeff's father had managed to get the charges dropped but Jeff pointed out that there was still a record of the arrests. Jeff added that he was more than happy, if Beckett could not find a copy of the arrest record he had a framed copy at home which she could look at.

"Did you have an argument with Olivia that night?" Beckett asked. "Or see anyone else who did?"

"No."

"A witness saw Olivia having it out with a man in a blue blazer and orange striped tie. Do you remember anyone who fit the description?"

"Actually, I do." Jeff smiled.

Jeff rose from his chair and motioned to us to follow him. Beckett got up from the arm of the chair she had been sitting on and followed Jeff. I got to my feet and quickly caught up to them. Our little journey was not a long one. Jeff took us across the lobby to where a large framed photograph was hanging on the wall.

Beckett and I stepped closer to the photograph and examined it closely. It was a portrait of the Wellesley family reunion. All the men in the photo were dressed in dark blue blazers and they all wore orange stripped ties.

"All Wellesley family events have a strict dress code." Jeff explained. "The blazers are standard, but Lenanne Wellesly, the family matriarch, handpicks the ties."

I studied the photograph for a few more moments before I slowly turned to look at Beckett. She continued to stare at the picture.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I said in a low voice.

"Yep. We got a hell of a lot of suspects."

After studying the photograph for a few more moments Beckett suddenly moved into action. She managed to obtain a copy of the photograph and Jeff was happy to provide us with the names of all the people posing in the photograph. Beckett thanked Jeff Dilahunt for his time and help before dismissing him. We left the Pierson Club. Beckett gave me a ride home.

XXX

For the next part of the story I have to thank Detective Ryan.

The following morning Ryan and Esposito marched into the Captain Montgomery's office. They found the Captain on the phone. It did not take the boys long to realise that the Captain was on the phone to one of his superiors. They were both feeling like they had intruded on something they shouldn't have.

"Yes, Chief." Captain Montgomery said into the phone. "No, I know Chief. As soon as possible."

Captain Montgomery hung up the phone and looked at the two detectives standing in his office.

"They cut our staff 20%, they get upset when our closure rate drops 3%." Captain Montgomery muttered angrily. "You ask me, we're working miracles to do what we're doing."

"Sir, we can do this later if you have a higher priority." Ryan told the Captain.

"Never let the job get in the way of doing the job. Where were we?" Captain Montgomery said.

"Well, Brady and his contact communicated through a dummy email account. We tried to trace the address, but it was a dead end." Esposito reported.

"Where are we with reviewing the guards?" The Captain asked.

"Nowhere." Ryan announced, making a face. "The warden refuses to provide us with a duty roster."

"Said he was offended we assumed one of his men was dirty." Esposito added. "He wanted to handle it inhouse."

"Yeah?" Captain Montgomery bristled. "Well that don't work for me."

While that was going on in Captain Montgomery's office Beckett and I were sitting in front of a white board which had enlarged photographs of all the men from the Wellesley family reunion portrait which we had taken from the Pierson Club the night before. With us looking over the photographs was Edwina, the waitress who had given the statement that she had witnessed Olivia having an argument with a man.

"Do any of these men look like the one that you saw arguing with Olivia the night of the party?" Beckett asked her.

Edwina looked at the photographs stuck on the whiteboard again and shook her head. She turned and looked at Beckett.

"Look, it was a stupid waitress job ten years ago." Edwina said with some frustration. "Do you remember what you were doing ten years ago?"

My eyes flew to Beckett and I saw the pained expression in her eyes. Yeah, Beckett knew very well what she had been doing ten or so years ago. It was something you never forget. I quickly leaped in to fill the silence and perhaps give Beckett a moment to focus on the matter in hand.

"Can you recall any details?" I asked Edwina. "Was he wearing glasses? Did he have a tattoo?"

Edwina shook her head. "All I know is that the man was yelling at the girl." She said. "He got so riled up he spilled his wine, and I ended up cleaning it off the carpet."

"Did he spill any on himself?" I asked eagerly.

"I don't know, maybe." Edwina conceded.

Beckett and I immediately moved up the board and studied the photographs of the men carefully. I started on one side and Beckett started on the other side and slowly we moved inwards. At the same moment our fingers landed on the same photograph of a young man whose blue shirt was discoloured with a damp purple patch and was trying desperately to hide it.

"Him!" We exclaimed at the same time.

An hour or so later Beckett and I were walking into the tea room of an upscale hotel down town which, as it happens, was not too far away from the Pierson Club. The tea room was fancy with the small tables graced with expensive cotton linen, and tea sets and crockery made from finest Dalton china. Cucumber sandwiches were the staple fare along with sinful looking little cakes.

We approached a small table where the matriarch of the Wellesley family, Jenanne, was holding court with her grandson. The family matriarch was a frail but reasonably well preserved looking old woman aged in her early eighties. She had a severe looking face which no amount of make up could disguise. She reminded me of the English actress Maggie Smith. Paying her court was her grandson, Trent, a man in his early thirties. Standing just behind Lenanne Wellesley's chair was a man dressed in a black suit. We later learned his name was Frank Davis and he was the family chauffeur, butler and odd jobs man.

Beckett held up her badge as we reached the table.

"Trent Wellesley? I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. I need to have a word." Beckett announced.

"Yes. My old friend Jeff said I might be hearing from you." Trent replied with a smile as he set aside his napkin.

"Police?" Lenanne Wellesley said looking both Beckett and I over as if we were applying for the jobs of lady's maid and butler. "Are they the police?"

"Yes Grandmother." Trent said in a loud voice.

Lenanne turned to look at us again perhaps looking a little disappointed that we were not applying for the jobs of lady's maid and butler but belonged that class of people tasked with protecting the likes of her and her family.

"My ring was stolen." Lenanne informed us.

"Oh, they're not here for you Grandmother." Trent informed her.

Lenanne held up an imperious hand and silenced her grandson. She turned to look at us again.

"My ring was stolen. It's expensive." Lenanne informed us.

Before Beckett had a chance to respond. Frank the chauffeur/butler and odd jobs man stepped forward and spoke to Trent.

"Trent, perhaps you should take this conversation elsewhere?" He suggested gently.

"Of course, Frank." Trent replied with a smile. Trent looked up at us. "She gets a little confused sometimes."

Trent rose slowly to his feet and followed as Beckett and I moved away from the tables so that Lenanne nor anybody else for that matter could hear us.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Trent announced. "It was me."

"It was you? What?" I asked, a little surprised.

Trent Wellesley informed Beckett and I that he was the one who had the argument with Olivia Dibiasse. He confirmed that it had been his friend Jeff who had brought her to the party. The reason for their argument was because he did not care for her behaviour and he had asked her to leave the party. He added that he thought that girls like Olivia liked to hang around families like his for a reason, that they want something.

"Jeff brought her as his plus one." Beckett informed him.

"But he had left by then and she stayed." Trent replied. "She tried to chat up more than one of my relatives."

"Anyone in particular?" I asked.

"You're barking up the wrong tree. No one in my family had anything to do with what happened to her." Trent insisted.

Beckett took a step closer to him and shot him one of her looks.

"Someone paid almost a million dollars to cover up her murder. That makes everyone in your family a suspect, including you." She told him.

"Trust me, if I had that kind of money to throw around, I wouldn't be here sucking up to the old lady." Trent replied, glancing in the direction of the table where his grandmother was sitting.

"Nice." I remarked, trying hard not to sound too sarcastic.

Trent looked at me.

"You think I'm rich because my name is Wellesley, but my dad died when I was a kid. Mom and me had to pretty much survive off the handouts of relatives."

"Oh, I suppose getting a job would be out of the question." I retorted.

I will put my hand up and confess I did not much like Trent Wellesley. I had been in his position when I had been a kid. Mother and I did not live off the largesse of relatives. I don't think she would have accepted handouts. Mother had to work long and hard to provide me with a good and happy childhood. Sure, there were times when things were tough, really tough, but somehow or another we managed to get by.

"Who are you protecting? You already admitted to arguing with her." Beckett pressed.

"It really doesn't look good." I added.

Trent paused a moment looking thoughtful as he weighed up his current situation.

"You have to understand. He's like the only father I have." Trent said in a low voice.

"Who are you talking about, Trent?" Beckett demanded.

"My Uncle Winston." Trent informed us. "He'd just been through a bad break up and...He's the kind of person that people try to take advantage of."

"People like who? Olivia? Or poor relations looking for a handout?" I remarked.

Beckett glanced at me, shooting a questioning look. I did not want to talk about it so shook my head slightly. She managed to get out of Trent the location of where we could find Uncle Winston. I had a couple more smart alec remarks on the tip of my tongue before we sent him back to the table where his grandmother was waiting. I had to bite my tongue to refrain from letting them pass my lips. As we left the tea room Beckett once more looked at me, half expecting an explanation. I simply told her that I did not like Trent. I could see that she was not buying it but to her credit she did not push the matter.

XXX

Beckett and I found ourselves back at the Pierson Club. This time however we were not standing in the lobby but in a ground floor bar. It might have been mid afternoon but there were a few people sitting at tables. Most of the people were business suited men huddling close, discussing some business proposition or another, or perhaps which off shore tax shelter was the best to use this financial year.

Beckett spotted him first, nudged me and then made her way over to him. I followed a couple of steps behind her.

Winston Wellesley was perched on a stool by the bar nursing a drink in his hand. He was aged in his mid to late fifties dressed in an expensive looking pinstripe suit that must have come from Saville Row. His greying blonde locks were neatly coiffured. He had a patrician air about him that only came with being a scion of a very wealthy and powerful family.

"Yes, it's terrible what happened to that poor girl." Winston informed us, looking suitably mournful. It was his first response once Beckett had badged him and introduced us and said that we wanted to talk to him about Olivia Dibiasse.

"Could you tell us about the kind of relationship you had with her, Mr Wellesley?" Beckett asked him. "Was the reunion the first time that you met?"

"Actually, I believe I met Olivia at a cocktail party a few weeks before that. Was it MoMA? I don't recall." Winston replied with a small smile on his face. "Anyway, I took a shine to her. Charming, ambitious. Rough around the edges, but I felt I could mentor her."

"And by mentor, you mean..." I said slowly.

Winston regarded me a moment.

"What are you suggesting?" He demanded.

"Your nephew Trent said that he saw her hitting on you the whole night." Beckett told him.

"Well, that's Trent for you." Winston said with a smirk. "He's always been very protective of the family."

Winston took a sip of his drink before he nodded to the bartender.

"Where were you between 10pm and 2am on the night she was murdered?" Beckett asked him.

"Are you asking me, Winston Wellesley, for an alibi?" Winston said with an amused grin on his face. The smile on his face did not last long when he saw the serious look on Beckett's face.

"Oh, apparently, you are." He said. "Fine. I was home."

"Can anyone corroborate that?" Beckett said.

"Yes. God." Winston said in a firm voice.

The bartender took a couple steps closer.

"Mr Wellesley, your car is ready." He announced.

Winston picked up his glass from off the counter and took a big sip. He returned the glass to the counter and rose from his stool.

"As delightful as this conversation has been, I must take my leave." Winston announced. "I have to meet my brother at his campaign head quarters."

"Ah, yes, Blake Wellesley, running for Senate again." I remarked.

"Mm-hmm, and we'd appreciate your support. Don't forget to vote." Winston said in way of goodbye.

I watched as Winston Wellesley strolled out of the bar and into the lobby of the club. I moved and sat down on the stool Winston previously occupied. I looked up at Beckett.

"I have no doubt that he was having an affair with Olivia." I declared. "But why would he kill her?"

"Do you think that maybe he was upset she came with someone else?" Beckett suggested.

"Mmm. Jealousy, money, murder." I mused. "Does it get any better than this?"

I motioned to the bartender to bring two drinks over. Beckett was a little surprised to find two drinks placed in front of us. Recovering from the shock she shot me a questioning look. I explained that seeing we were here it would not hurt to have a quick drink and discuss the case. Beckett reminded me that she was still on duty. I volleyed back that one drink was not going to do any harm. That remark earned me one of her patterned glares that had me rapidly signalling to the bartender to change her drink order from something alcoholic to something non-alcoholic.

What I also noticed was that she did not appear in too much of a hurry to head back to the precinct. We sipped our drinks and went over what we knew about the case so far. It was a pleasant interlude I must admit.

XXX

I could have easily remained sitting at that bar enjoying the pleasure of Beckett's company. I like to think that Beckett was enjoying the pleasure of my company. Sadly, there was work to do and we returned to the precinct.

Shortly after our return to the precinct Olivia Dibiasse's aunt, Sara arrived. Beckett and I joined Captain Montgomery and Sara in the interview lounge. Sara sat at the table and Beckett also sat at the table near her. The Captain and I remained standing.

Captain Montgomery let Beckett take the lead. Beckett informed Sara that we wanted to exhume Olivia's body.

"You want to exhume my niece's body?" Sara said, frowning at the thought.

"We believe that there was evidence overlooked during the autopsy that could lead to her killer." Beckett explained.

Sara looked troubled at the request. She turned her head and looked up at Captain Montgomery.

"Well, you told me that you caught the man." She said. "You told me it was over."

"I thought it was." Captain Montgomery replied.

The Captain looked a little uncomfortable. I suppose you could not blame him. After all he had thought he had caught the guy who had killed Olivia. At the time he was sure that the case over and could tell Olivia's next of kin that was the case.

"Who ever killed Olivia just murdered two more people." Captain Montgomery said. "Your niece deserves justice, and so do they."

"She was such a special girl." Sara said, with a wistful expression on her face. "She quit school to take care of her mother when the cancer got bad."

"That says a lot about her." I told Sara.

Sara nodded her head. "After her mother passed, it was like she had to get away. When she moved to the city I was just happy for her. But then..." Sara's voice trailed off. "You'll bury her back the way she was?"

"Of course." Captain Montgomery assured her.

Sara picked up the pen from the desk and and pulled the permission papers for the exhumation which Beckett had placed on the table closer to her and signed her name at the bottom of the paper.

"At least she had the funeral she deserved." Sara remarked. "Thank God for Mr Wellesley."

"Mr Wellesley?" Beckett said with some surprise.

"The man who paid for everything."

"Which Mr Wellesley was that?" I asked carefully.

"Winston Wellesley." Sara informed us.

That piece of information surprised both Beckett and the Captain. Needless to say I too was surprised. The meeting with Sara was wound up with Beckett assuring her that all dignity would be accorded her niece's exhumation. All three of us escorted Sara to the elevator to see her off.

Once Sara left we all turned and started making our way along the hallway.

"Paid for her funeral?" I remarked. "Can anyone say 'guilty conscience'?"

"Yeah." Beckett replied. She looked across to Esposito. "Hey, Esposito, run down Winston Wellesley's alibi. Talk to doormen, chauffeurs, the whole gamut."

"I'll see what I can do." Esposito responded.

"Thank you."

We reached Captain Montgomery's office and stood around the door way. Ryan suddenly came up with a grin on his face and holding a file in his hand.

"Prison duty roster." He said to the Captain holding up the file. "How'd you pull it off, sir?"

"They didn't make me Captain just because I look good behind a desk." Captain Montgomery replied with a hint of a smile on his face. "Run all the guards on that roster. Look for anything out of the ordinary."

Ryan smiled and nodded his head before he headed off to carry out the captain's ordder.

"Sir, I'm going to call the cemetery to make arrangements to exhume the body tomorrow." Beckett announced.

Captain Montgomery nodded his head. Then a frown appeared on his face.

"You know what I don't get?" He said. "Whoever is behind this, why'd he stop paying Brady? These Wellesleys have plenty of money. If the money hadn't stopped, Brady never would have set off this triggering domino that started all of this."

I took a step closer to the Captain.

"Let me let you in on a little secret." I said in a low voice. "You know how rich people stay rich? They are cheap. Why pay for Brady for the rest of his life, when you can kill him for a fraction of the price?"

"But then why would he wait ten years?" Beckett questioned.

"Something changed. Something must have happened." Captain Montgomery suggested.

"Yeah." Beckett agreed.

Our little conclave was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of another Wellesley.

"Captain Montgomery? Blake Wellesley."

Blake Wellesley was tall and patrician. Aged in his fifties and in contrast to his brother Winston, Blake had a head of brown hair. He too was dressed in a suit that had been hand tailored. The suit was a conservative dark blue. Like most politicians he sported and American flag on the lapel of his jacket. He had been accompanied by a retinue of three lackeys.

"Hate to bother you," Blake said smoothly as he shook the Captain's hand, "but do you have a minute to chat?"

The Captain was unable to hide the look of surprise at the sudden interruption but he recovered quickly enough and motioned Blake Wellesley into his office. He followed the man in. There was no way in the world Beckett was going to be left out of this little pow wow, and you can bet your bottom dollar neither was I. The lackeys too started make their way toward the door but Captain Montgomery closed the door in their faces, as if to say, 'your boss might be a rich powerful man but this is my house'.

I planted myself on the two seater couch by the window while Beckett positioned herself to the side of the Captain's desk, allowing herself a good view of Wellesley and of me, for that matter. Wellesley made himself comfortable in the chair in front of the Captain's desk while Captain Montgomery took his time to sit down in his chair.

I have to say that I was a little disappointed that I did not have a bowl of popcorn while I watched what was about to go down. I had a feeling this was going to be good.

"I speak for the entire Wellesley family when I say you can expect our full cooperation in this investigation." Wellesley announced in a smooth tone of voice.

"But? You can tell, there's a 'but' coming." I interjected. I could not help myself.

"Not a 'but', a 'however'" Wellesley corrected, holding up a finger in my direction. "Like I said, we'll cooperate, however, we request that these unannounced interviews come to a stop."

"Here we go." Beckett remarked, rolling her eyes.

"Beckett, let's hear him out." Captain Montgomery said magnanimously.

Wellesley smiled indulgently at Beckett.

"I apologise if I'm coming off like one of those guys, Detective." Wellesley said looking at her.

He got that right, he was sounding exactly like one of those guys.

"It's just that these impromptu visits are a bit awkward." Wellesley continued. "My nephew Trent said you spoke to him when he visited my mother. Mother became very confused, very upset. I'm sure there's a better way to facilitate this."

"Like what?" Beckett asked.

"Well, I propose that all further interviews be coordinated by me and conducted at my offices. What do you think?"

Beckett looked at me and rolled her eyes. I had to struggle to keep a straight face in response. Wellesley smiled as he turned his attention to Captain Montgomery. I looked over to the Captain wondering what he would do or what he would say.

"Thank you for your offer, Mr Wellesley. It's very nice of you." Captain Montgomery said, a small smile on his face.

"Not at all. I'll give you my number." Wellesley said as he rose to his feet. His smile had grown, as if he was feeling pleased that this little meeting had gone exactly the way he had been expecting.

I noticed that Captain Montgomery had not risen to his feet and there was a glint in his eyes as he looked up at Wellesley.

"Hold on, I too have a 'however'." Captain Montgomery announced.

Wellesley was suddenly confused as he turned to look at the Captain.

"Thank you for your offer, however, my detectives will conduct their investigation in any manner they sit fit." Captain Montgomery said grimly.

Wellesley regarded the Captain for a moment. A tight lipped smile appeared on his face.

"Captain, I can get the commissioner on the phone in under a minute." Wellesley warned.

It was a threat. Anyway you wanted to look at it. It was a threat. The man was threatening the captain, trying to intimidate him. If the guy wanted to play it that way I could have told him I have the Mayor on speed dial. I kept my mouth shut on seeing the expression on Captain Montgomery's face. There was a smile on his face.

"Well, tell him I say hi and I really could use a raise." Captain Montgomery replied. He rose to his feet. "I think we're done here."

Captain Montgomery held out his hand to Wellesley. Wellesley looked at the extended hand but refused to shake it. He turned and walked out of the Captain's office.

I stared at Captain Montgomery with renewed respect. A very rich and powerful man had tried to intimidate him and the Captain had smacked him down.

"That was awesome!" I exclaimed excitedly.

"Whatever you guys are doing, keep doing it." Captain Montgomery said looking from me to Beckett. "They're circling the wagons."

Beckett nodded her head and left the office. I followed her but not before looking back to the Captain and smiling.

"Awesome!" I repeated.

Captain Montgomery had a pleased look on his face.

In the bullpen I could not wait to tell the boys about the smack down the Captain had given Blake Wellesley in the office. Ryan and Esposito were all ears to the little story I recounted in my best storyteller voice, leaving nothing out. I could not help but notice the looks of pride the boys wore about learning what their captain had done. I too was proud of Captain Montgomery.

XXX

On returning home to the loft I headed straight to my office to do some work on the second Nikki Heat novel. I finished a chapter and sketched out the next couple before I decided to take a break and emerged from the office.

I found Mother sitting at the dining room table with the laptop in front of her. She had been debating about whether to accept Chet Palaburn's friend request or not. That was the way I had found her when I had arrived home and I was not surprised to discover that she was still in a state of indecisiveness.

Mother had risen from the table and made her way over to the kitchen counter to refill her empty wine glass.

"Oh, Mother, come on!" I said as I reached the dining table. "Accept the man's friend request already."

"Using that old photo of me was a terrible idea." Mother said. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"Since when have I had the power to stop you from doing anything?" I asked.

"What will Chet think if he expects 1980s Martha, and, pfft present day Martha shows up?"

Mother waved a hand down the length of her body to emphasise her present look.

I turned to look at Mother.

"You tell anyone I said this, and I'll deny it." I told her. "And I'm only going to say it once. 1980's Martha was pretty great, but present day Martha is pretty spectacular too."

Mother looked at me and smiled, the kind of smile that came straight from the heart. I thought I saw the glint of a tear in her eye too. I turned back to the laptop and clicked the accept button on the friend request.

"Did you accept that?" Mother asked with a look of horror on her face.

"Yeah."

Mother came over to me. "Well, take it back."

"I'm sorry, I cannot."

"Oh no. Come on..."

"No. But since it's done, why don't you take a visit to Chet's page, and see what he looks like these days?" I suggested.

Mother thought that was a pretty good idea. She turned to the laptop.

"Uh, just like this?" Mother said, as she clicked on a button. "Press that?"

On the laptop screen there appeared a photograph of Chet Palaburn. A Very, very young looking Chet Palaburn I hasten to say. I started to laugh on seeing the photograph.

"Well, that's Chet." Mother said. "But how old is that photo?"

"Turnabout is fair play Mother." I said as I made my way into the kitchen to get myself a glass of wine.

"Chet Palaburn. What were you thinking man?" Mother intoned.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The Case of Kill The Messenger

Part 4

The following morning I had other business to take care of, namely there was a couple of book store appearances over in New Jersey. There was quite a turn out of fans waiting for me at the first book store that I appeared at. The signings went for longer than had been planned but I did not want to disappoint all the fans who had turned up to say hello. It meant that I was a little late getting to the second book store to an even longer line of waiting fans.

It was late in the afternoon when I returned to the city. I headed straight home. I was not home for long. Soon after I got a call from Beckett telling me that Olivia Dibiasse's body had been exhumed and sent to the morgue where it was waiting for us.

Not long after that I was standing in the autopsy room where a large casket sat in the middle of the room. On Perlmutter's insistence both Beckett and I had donned scrubs and were issued face masks.

"City workers brought the coffin in an hour ago." Perlmutter informed us.

"Alright." I said, studying the coffin carefully. "Winston didn't spare any pennies with this box of wood. This is the Bentley of caskets."

Beckett turned to me and smirked. "Shopping ahead?"

"Research." I replied. "Derrick Storm, in_ Storm Warning_, finds a murder weapon buried in a coffin a year before the murder occurs." Beckett graced me with a knowing smile before she turned her attention to the coffin.

"Of course, who am I talking to? You know this." I added.

"Back in the non fiction section." Perlmutter interjected as he pointed to the coffin. "We have a real casket that's been sealed for ten years, so there's going to be some serious decomposition. When I crack this open, expect the foulest of foul stenches."

We all put our face masks in place and Beckett sucked in a deep breath. Perlmutter picked up a heavy duty looking crowbar and stepped up to the casket.

"Set?" Perlmutter asked.

"Okay." Beckett replied.

"Yeah." I added.

"Ready." Perlmutter said.

Perlmutter attacked the coffin with the crowbar and a few moments later there was a loud hiss of escaping air. Half the lid was lifted up. All three of us stared into the coffin with a great deal of surprise. I had been expecting to find a desiccated skeleton but there was no skeleton, there was no body of any kind laying there. What there was laying in the coffin were several sacks. I turned to look at Perlmutter.

"Is the body missing or did you just pull off an awesome magic trick?" I said with a grin. "You are amazing, sir."

Perlmutter made a face at me. I suppressed the laugh that was bubbling up. I turned attention from Perlmutter and turned to look at Beckett. The laughter that I was threatening to escape from me died the moment I saw her face. Surprise had turned to shock.

Beckett took a step closer to the open coffin and peered into. There was definitely no body inside the coffin. The case had suddenly taken a very interesting and sinister turn. For a few moments we all stood there in stunned silence. That did not last long. Beckett ordered Perlmutter to dust the coffin for prints. She reached for her phone and called the Captain to let him know what had happened.

I stood close by watching Perlmutter as he dusted the inside of the coffin. I tried out a couple of theories on him that had popped into my head just to help make the time go a little quicker. Perlmutter at first ignored my theorising but he drew the line when I brought up the suggestion of alien body snatchers. He paused in his work and shot me a glare that suggested all manner of harm would come to me if I did not shut up. I took the hint.

A few minutes later he finished his task and looked at me.

"Nope. No prints." Perlmutter announced. "Whoever removed Olivia's remains was careful."

"How do these people manage to keep one step ahead of us?" I muttered aloud.

Beckett finished her phone call and came back to the coffin.

"Olivia's aunt said it was an open casket funeral." Beckett reported. "So her body must have been in there at one point."

"The mortuary company must have switched out the body between the funeral and the burial." I suggested.

"Yeah, but the company's out of business, so there's no way of finding out." Beckett replied.

"Winston had to have paid to get rid of the body, just in case Brady ever wanted to come clean with the police."

"Mmm-hmm. Looks like it."

"This guy's got contingency plans for his contingency plans." I said in a frustrated tone. "Feels like we're battling a super villain."

Beckett shot me a grin.

Perlmutter came over and to close the lid of the coffin.

"Hey, excuse me, dynamic duo." He said as he closed the coffin lid.

I have to say that I rather liked that term that Perlmutter had given us. 'Dynamic Duo'. Sure it had been used before but it seemed appropriate for our circumstances. I sometimes like to think Beckett and I are like Batman and Robin, or more to the point, Bat Girl and Robin, Holmes and Watson, Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. I certainly have pictured Beckett wearing a Bat Girl cape, or in a Stars And Stripes hotpants outfit. It goes without saying how cute she looks in a deerstalker hat. But I digress...

Beckett and I turned and started heading for the door.

"What am I doing with this?" Perlmutter asked us, as he motioned to the coffin.

Beckett and I paused near the door.

"Well, it depends." I said. "What can you get for a second hand casket these days?"

"I'll call Olivia's family and find out what they want." Beckett announced.

"Seriously, though, I wonder what you could get for a slightly used coffin." I continued. "that thing is top of the line."

Beckett and I had reached the double doors when all of a sudden my research on coffins that I had done for _Storm Warning_ came back to me. I stopped and turned back to Perlmutter.

"Did you check the drawer?"

"What drawer?" Perlmutter asked.

I turned and walked back to the coffin. Beckett followed.

"High end coffins have a small drawer hidden somewhere in the lid. That way, families can place mementos in there or psychotic killers can hide evidence."

Perlmutter opened the half lid of the coffin and I spotted the hidden drawer.

"There." I pointed out.

Perlmutter slowly opened the drawer and was about to reached down and pick up what was contained in the drawer. Beckett had moved and pulled on a pair of gloves and was reaching for the contents of the drawer at the same time as Perlmutter.

Perlmutter stopped and pulled back and motioned for Beckett to continue.

"Thank you. Sorry." Beckett said in a low voice.

Beckett picked up a set of old photographs and took a couple of steps closer to me so that I could see them too. She went through the photos slowly.

"Nothing suspicious, just a bunch of family photographs." Beckett remarked.

They were indeed the usual collection of family photos. Pictures of when Olivia was a little girl. There was one of Olivia as a smiling little girl with a missing front tooth. It reminded of the vast collection of photographs I have of Alexis when she was a little girl. My darling daughter would kill me if those particular photos ever saw the light of day outside of the family. I'm saving them for her twenty-first birthday when I can well and truly embarrass her.

There was another photograph of Olivia when she was a baby and being held in the arms of her proud looking mother. Then there was a photograph of a young woman wearing glasses. She was sitting at a desk with a telephone to her ear. On the lapel of her jacket there was a button, the kind that political campaigns love to distribute.

"What does that button say?" I asked.

"Looks like a political button." Beckett remarked.

I flipped over the photograph to look at the back of it. There was a name written on the back of the photograph.

"Edna Dibiasse. Was Edna Dibiasse Olivia's mother?" I asked. "Let me borrow your magnifying glass."

Beckett turned her head and looked at me.

"I don't have a magnifying glass."

"Isn't that standard issue for detectives?"

"No. Not since Sherlock Holmes." Beckett said with a smirk.

"You can use mine." Perlmutter informed us.

Both Beckett and I looked to Perlmutter and found him pointing past us. We looked in the direction of where he was pointing and we saw the large round lighted magnifying glass that was anchored to the table. Beckett and I shuffled across to it. I moved the magnifying glass as Beckett held the photograph under the glass.

"Casper Wellesley, Senate '78." Beckett read out. She looked up at me.

"Olivia's mother worked on the campaign." I said. "All roads lead to Wellesley."

Beckett took possession of the photographs. She thanked Perlmutter before we left the morgue. As it was late there was not much that could be done so Beckett called it a night. I headed home.

XXX

I got to the precinct the following day relatively early. Well by my standards it was early. Beckett was not at her desk. As I sat down at her desk I noticed that her coffee mug was missing. I figured that she had left to go and get a coffee. No doubt that she had been here almost from the crack of dawn and if it hadn't been the crack of dawn it would have been not long after.

I moved to her computer and called up a web browser. A thought had occurred to me while I was coming in to the precinct so I thought I might as well research it once I got to the precinct. I found the periodical database that I was looking for and began to search. It did not take long for the results to come back. I started reading a particular article that caught my attention.

"Are you looking at porn?" Beckett asked.

"I use Ryan's for that." I replied. I motioned to the computer screen and to the article I had been reading. "I've been searching a periodical database. Look what I found."

Beckett came around to take a closer look at her computer.

"In this article, it talks about how during his 1978 senate run, Casper had his sons, Blake and Winston, heading up his campaign head quarters in Ithaca."

"Where Olivia's mom worked." Beckett replied. "She and Winston must have crossed paths."

"Exactly. Now why would Winston keep that from us?" I said with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm."

One did not need to be a rocket surgeon to deduce that Beckett and I would be paying Winston Wellesley another visit in the very near future. Beckett gathered up her things and started heading out of the bullpen. I was right beside her.

My thanks to Detective Ryan for this next little bit of the story.

While Beckett and I were heading out to speak to Winston Wellesley Captain Montgomery was standing in the hallway just outside one of the interrogation rooms. He was watching as Ryan and Esposito escorted a burly looking prison guard. Ryan took the man into the room while Esposito went up to the Captain.

"We ran all the guards off that duty roster you got us from Brady's prison." Esposito announced. He motioned in the direction of the interrogation room. "He's the only one that red flagged."

"Name's Patterson." Ryan said after he emerged from the interrogation room. "Made a deposit last month for $5,000 cash. Then the day Brady was killed, he makes another deposit in cash. This time for ten."

Captain Montgomery nodded his head. His expression hardened as he looked in the direction of the interrogation room and in particular at the prison guard sitting there.

"If there's anything that I hate, it's a dirtbag in uniform." Captain Montgomery growled.

"Mmm-hmm." Esposito nodded his head.

"So where are you guys at with Winston's alibi?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"We have a few leads." Ryan reported.

"Keep pushing on that." Captain Montgomery nodded in the direction of the interrogation room. "I'll push on this."

XXX

Trying to locate Winston Wellesley did not prove to be all that difficult. Beckett and I found him propped up against the bar in the Pierson Club. It seemed to me that he had a permanent spot there at the bar.

Winston did not seem too pleased to see us walking into the bar and straight to him. A pained expression crossed his face as we walked up. That expression was quickly changed into a tight lipped smile. Neither Beckett nor I returned the smile.

Beckett placed a photograph of Edna Dibiasse onto the counter beside Winston. He glanced at the photograph before he turned his attention to the drink he held in his hand.

"Mr Wellesley, we are going to find out the truth." Beckett informed him. "And the amount of dust that we kick up is entirely up to you."

Winston tapped the photograph of Edna Dibiasse with his finger.

"I do seem to recall making her acquaintance."

"You're telling us half-truths again." Beckett said in a firm voice. "We already know that you paid for Olivia's funeral. We already know that you knew her. Either you start telling the truth, or you're going to spend the last few weeks of your brother's campaign issuing denials after I release what I know to the press."

The gloves had come off and Beckett was tired of all the half truths and lies that had been thrown at her. No more Ms Nice Gal. Winston Wellesley had no idea what manner of doo-doo he would find himself in if he really pissed off Beckett. Wisely he held up his hand conceding defeat.

"Fine. I knew her mother." I said. "After her mother passed, Olivia set about to unravel the mystery of her origins. Olivia was clever. She put together the clues, found out her father was a Wellesley. A Wellesley."

"And?" Beckett pressed.

Winston looked a little embarrassed as he glanced down at his half finished drink.

"Actually, the truth is, I'm Olivia's father." He announced.

I was surprised by that revelation and it must have showed on my face. Beckett's face was a mask, even if it twitched a little with surprise.

"I know, I had the same look on my face when Olivia told me ten years ago." Winston said.

"And Olivia's mother didn't tell you?" I asked.

"Mm-mmm. Didn't tell Olivia either." Winston said with a slight shake of his head. "I was on the verge of telling everyone when she...She was tragically killed."

Beckett leaned a little closer towards Winston.

"It is a tragedy when a father kills his daughter." She told him.

"What?" Winston said with surprise.

"What do you know about Olivia's missing body?" Beckett said.

"Nothing! That's obscene!" Winston said with outrage. "Who would do something like that?"

"You. So no one would ever find out the truth of who she really was." I pointed out.

I was starting to dislike Winston Wellesley even more with each passing moment.

"I didn't kill her and I certainly did not hide her body." Winston shot back angrily.

"Yet, ten years after her death, you're still trying to hide her existence." I said.

"Well, you have understand," Winston said with an almost apologetic smile. "I have a family to protect."

"Olivia was family." I said tersely and glared at him.

"Mmm." Winston muttered.

Luckily for Winston Wellesley we did not have the evidence to slap the handcuffs on him and march him out of the Pierson Club. I made a face at Beckett that silently begged we put the cuffs on him anyway. I can't be sure but I thought I detected a look of agreement in her eyes before she turned her attention back to Winston and thanked him for his time.

All the way back to the precinct I complained to Beckett that she did not arrest him. Beckett wisely did not respond to my rant, preferring just let me blow off the steam that had built up during our interview with Winston.

A short while later Beckett and I were staring at the murder board. I still had a bit more steam to let out. I pointed to the photograph of Winston Wellesley tacked to the board.

"Winston Wellesley, you did it." I said angrily.

"He might have," Beckett agreed. She did not appear happy either, "but we don't have the evidence to prove it."

"That's because he didn't." Esposito called out.

Esposito and Ryan were approaching us. I detected small grins on their faces.

"We were able to verify Winston's alibi." Esposito added.

"He really was home alone?" Beckett said, sounding incredulous.

"Oh, he was home." Ryan said, with a grin. "But he wasn't alone. Winston had some romantic company."

"Well, then if he had an alibi, why didn't he just say so from the start?" Beckett frowned.

"Maybe because of who his romantic company was." Esposito grinned.

"Stanley Jenkins." Ryan announced.

I blinked at the name and then shot a pointed look in the direction of the boys.

"Is Stanley a unisex name now, or is Winston...?"

"Gay?" Ryan nodded. "Uh, yeah, he's gay."

The confused frown gracing Beckett's face slowly transformed to one of anger.

"He lied to us." She said. She looked to me. "Who is he protecting?"

"Well, he said it himself. Family." I said in a low voice.

XXX

Getting the Wellesley boys, Winston and Blake, to the precinct proved to be a touch more difficult than Beckett had first thought. She had tried to get through to Blake Wellesley to invite him in but his lackeys made sure that he was not available to take her call explaining that he was in some meeting or making some speech or another.

Sitting in my chair beside her desk I watched as the anger levels began to rise to 'Danger Will Robinson' levels, as call after call was thwarted. With her latest attempt thwarted Beckett slammed the phone back in its cradle. I kind of jumped in my chair a little.

As luck would have it Captain Montgomery just happened to be walking past and saw Beckett's outburst. He asked what was wrong and Beckett wasted little time in telling him that Blake Wellesley's people were stonewalling her. We had previously briefed the Captain of the outcome of our interview with Winston and what the boys had discovered.

Captain Montgomery held out his hand for Beckett's telephone. Beckett passed it over. The Captain motioned her to dial the number for him, which Beckett did. I sat back and got comfortable, trying not to look too excited but failing. There was a gentle smile on Beckett's face as she looked from me up to Captain Montgomery.

The call was answered and Captain Montgomery announced himself and asked to speak to Blake Wellesley. I saw the Captain's eyes narrow and I figured that the lackey who had answered the call was spinning him the same palava that he had dished out to Beckett when she had called. Captain Montgomery waited until the lackey had finished speaking and then told the lackey to get his boss on the phone right now or the lackey could explain to his boss how the papers got a hold of a scandal about a love child fathered by his boss and how easily the lackey could have prevented it all because he wouldn't put his boss on.

Beckett and I exchanged smiles of triumph, and I have to admit that I did fist pump the air. Captain Montgomery was awesome.

Blake Wellesley came onto the line in less than a minute. Captain Montgomery ordered Blake and his brother Winston to be in the precinct in an hour or he could kiss his political campaign goodbye.

Captain Montgomery did not wait for a response from Blake Wellesley, he handed the phone back to Beckett.

"The man doesn't want to shake my hand, I'll show him." Captain Montgomery said as he headed off back to his office. I saw the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Awesome!" I gushed.

Beckett laughed as shook her head.

XXX

One hour later Blake and Winston Wellesley appeared at the precinct. Beckett showed them into a interrogation room and left them there for a few minutes. She came to her desk and picked up her portfolio and then started back for the interrogation room. I jumped out of my chair and followed her.

Blake and Winston were seated on one side the table while Beckett and I sat side by side across from them. Beckett quickly filled Blake in about what we had found out about Olivia and her mother. I had watched Blake carefully as Beckett was telling him information and I have to say that he seemed genuinely surprised.

"You have to understand that this young woman, Olivia, I hardly knew her." Blake explained. "Maybe I shook her hand at the party, but that's all. And now you're telling me her mother and I worked at the same campaign thirty years ago?" He said.

"You and your brother were in Ithaca July and August '78." Beckett told him. "Olivia was born May '79. That's nine months later."

"Your brother claimed paternity, but I think we all know that's highly unlikely." I added.

Blake turned to look at his brother, who had remained silent.

"Winston, what the hell is going on here?" Blake demanded.

"Blake, it's time to get the lawyers involved." Winston replied.

"What do you know about this, Winston?"

"This is not the time or place." Blake's brother replied.

Blake turned away from his brother and looked at Beckett.

"I never saw Edna after that summer." He said. "She never told me anything."

"So, you admit to sleeping with her?" Beckett said.

"She must have not wanted to rock the boat, hurt my father's campaign with a scandal involving his son."

"Blake, you've said enough." Winston interjected.

Blake rounded on his brother.

"I just found out I had a daughter I never knew about. A daughter who was murdered and whose killer apparently is still at large." Blake shouted angrily. "Why did you tell the police you were her father? Why?"

"Actually, the question is, why did he tell Olivia that ten years ago?" I said.

Winston Wellesley looked decidedly uncomfortable under the glare of his brother's and Beckett's gazes. He looked at his brother.

"You have to understand, Blake, this was during the first Senate run. Scandal would have killed the campaign."

"I lost the damn election anyway." Blake snapped. "You had no right to make that decision without me!"

"We were only looking out for your best interests." Winston told his brother.

Beckett leaned forward on the table and stared at Winston. She leaped on what Winston had said.

"We? Winston, who is 'we'?"

There was a pained expression on Winston's face as he turned to face Beckett. I could tell that he did not want to give up the name or names of those involved. However he did not stay mum for too long. Beckett wore him down in a matter of minutes with a little bit of help from Blake Wellesley. He then gave us the full story and the person involved.

XXX

Beckett and I returned to the tea room of that upscale hotel where we had first met Lenanne Wellesley. This time we did not come alone. With us for this little meeting were Blake and Winston Wellesley. Frank Davis was standing at his usual place behind the family matriarch.

"Mother do you remember Olivia? Olivia Dibiasse?" Blake asked her.

"Of course I do." Lenanne replied with a smile. "I have my mind."

"Mrs Wellesley," Beckett said. "We need to a..."

Lenanne looked up at Beckett and the smile faded from her face.

"Who are you?" She asked. She turned to her son. "Blake, that's not Olivia."

"Yes, Mother. This is a police detective investigating..."

Lenanne's smile returned as she looked up at Beckett.

"Oh, yes. My ring was stolen. It was very expensive."

"Yes ma'am." Beckett said as she took a step closer to the table. "Um, but before we can deal with that, we need to ask you a few questions about Olivia Dibiasse."

"Olivia." Lenanne huffed. "Came to me looking for a father." The family matriarch paused as she turned her attention to Winston who was seated at the end of the table.

"So I gave her Winston." She said, resuming. "A child would go a long way to butch up his image."

A pained expression appeared on Winston's face.

"But she was my daughter, Mother." Blake said.

"You were too special." Lenanne smiled. "You're going to be a Senator, maybe even President someday."

"Mrs Wellesley, what happened to Olivia the night of her murder?" I asked.

"Ooh! So many questions about...I don't care for questions." Lenanne said with angry shake of her head. "Olivia questioned me. Ugh! The gall of that girl."

Frank Davis stepped forward.

"Mr Wellesley, your mother is ill. She can't handle this..." He said.

"Oh, shut it, Frank!" Lenanne growled. "I can handle anything."

"It's dangerous for her to get this riled up." Frank continued. "I'm getting her medication from the car."

I watched as Frank moved rather rapidly out of the tea room. I could not help the small knowing grin on my lips as he disappeared out the front door of the hotel. I turned look down at Wellesley family matriarch.

"What does any of this have to do with my stolen ring?" Lenanne asked.

"Mother, did you go to Olivia's apartment that night?" Winston asked.

"Well, she crossed me, had to be stopped." Lenanne replied.

Winston closed his eyes on hearing that admission from his mother.

"What did you do, Mother." Blake asked carefully.

Lenanne remained silent unwilling to speak any further. Beckett leaned even closer towards Lenanne Wellesley.

"Mrs Wellesley, did you kill Olivia Dibiasse?"

"Kill her? Why would I kill her?" Lenanne said in shock. "No. I said, 'Take care of it', and it was taken care of."

"And who did ask to take care of it?" Beckett pressed.

At first Lenanne Wellesley refused to divulge the name of the person she had asked to take care of Olivia Dibiasse but under the gaze of her two sons, a ticked of Homicide detective and a disapproving mystery writer, she finally provided the name of the killer.

Now, while the Wellesley family matriarch was being grilled, out the front of the hotel there were some fun and games taking place. Once again I am indebted to Detective Ryan for providing on what went down.

Frank Davis emerged from the hotel and headed straight to the car that was parked out the front. He opened the door to the driver's side and was about to get in when Captain Montgomery made his appearance. He walked up to Davis.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Frank Davis." Captain Montgomery said in a cheerful tone of voice.

"Sorry pal, you got the wrong guy." Davis replied.

"I don't think so, pal." Captain Montgomery shot back. "I just spent the better part of the day sweating a guard named Patterson who works in the prison where Brady Thompson was killed."

Davis looked a little nervous as he shook his head.

"I don't know any Brady Thompson and I don't know any Patterson."

Captain Montgomery grinned as he took a step closer to Davis.

"That's funny, because he knows you." Captain Montgomery said. "Said that you paid him to monitor Brady Thompson's calls about a package."

Davis knew the jig was up and he turned away from Captain Montgomery and tried to make a run for it. Esposito appeared from behind the car with his service piece drawn and point directly at Davis.

"No, no, no, no." Esposito told him.

Davis turned to face Captain Montgomery and made a move to run past him. He did not make a single step because behind the Captain, Detective Ryan stood, also with his service piece drawn.

"Said you paid him to have a lifer put a shiv in Brady Thompson's back." Captain Montgomery continued. "Now you tell me how I got the wrong guy."

Captain Montgomery moved up to Davis grabbed him and shoved him hard up against the car. He held out his hand to Esposito.

"Cuffs." he said.

XXX

Beckett and I met Captain Montgomery in the hallway next to the bullpen as we were making our way to Beckett's desk. It was evening and the end of a long day but there was a smile of satisfaction on the captain's face. He had spent several hours interrogating Frank Davis. He was returning from having processed Davis and sent him on to Central Booking.

"So, Frank was the family hitman?" I inquired.

"More like the family fixer." Captain Montgomery replied. "He cleaned up all types of dirt for Senator Wellesley back in the day. He knows where all the bodies are buried."

"And which ones need to be dug up." I quipped.

"And then after he got rid of Olivia on Mrs Wellesley's orders, he called around to all his low life connections until he found someone desperate enough to cut a deal." Captain Montgomery said.

"Then why after ten years, would he suddenly stop paying Brady to do his jail time?" I inquired. That was a part of the story I did not understand.  
"When Mrs Wellesley lost her faculties, Blake was granted power of attorney." Captain Montgomery explained.

"Frank couldn't get the money to make the payments anymore." Beckett added.

I slowly nodded my head in understanding. "So he stopped, figuring Brady would just disappear."

"And when he found out Brady had evidence to prove his innocence, Frank panicked." Captain Montgomery said. "He stole Mrs Wellesley's ring and hocked it to finance his plans to shut Brady up permanently."

We came to a halt near the entrance to the bullpen.

"By the way, I took a look at the precinct's numbers." Beckett said with a smile. "Three closed cases puts us over the mandated case closure rate. Right in time for the review tomorrow."

Captain Montgomery smiled at his best detective.

"You know what's even better than that?" He said. "After ten years I can call Olivia's aunt and tell her that we really got the guy. Finally."

Captain Montgomery left us standing in the hallway as he made his way to his office. I looked into the bullpen and saw Paisley Shimansky sitting at Beckett's desk waiting nervously. Beckett followed my gaze and saw the young woman waiting.

"And you get to give the messenger's sister some closure too." I said.

"Mm-hmm." Beckett murmured.

"Though I don't supposed having answers makes it any easier."

Beckett turned to look at me. "It does." She said with a gentle smile. "In time."

I watched as Beckett walked into the bullpen and over to her desk. Reaching her desk she pulled out her chair and sat down close to Paisley Shimansky. I watched for a few moments as Beckett informed the young woman about what had happened.

Once more I found myself marvelling at the depths of this woman whom I have the privilege of following around, helping to solve murders and who inspires me to be a better writer.

Suddenly I felt like I was intruding so I turned away and headed for the elevator. There was nothing else for me to do here but to go home to my family.

XXX

After dinner I was sitting on the couch in the living room. Sitting beside me was my darling daughter. I told her the story of the case that I had helped to close. My darling daughter as always listened to the story I spun with wrapped attention. It reminded me of those days not so long ago when she was small and tucked into bed and I read her a bedtime story or a specially created story just for her.

"I can't believe how many lives were ruined over one woman's need to protect her family's reputation." Alexis remarked after I had finished telling the story.

"You will never have this problem." I assured her. "Between Grams and myself, our family's reputation's already in ruins."

"Mmm. Lucky me." Alexis murmured.

"Yeah." I chuckled.

Alexis turned to look at me.

"What's going to happen to Brady's son?" She asked.

"Well, there's a silver lining there." I replied. "When Blake Wellesley found out why Brady sold his freedom. He pledged twenty million dollars to a local kids' charity who agreed to handle Brady's son's care."

"Oh, that's sweet."

"And...Wow..." My attention was drawn to the stairs and the figure that was coming down those stairs.

Mother was dressed up to the nines and looked pretty spectacular.

"Looking good, Grams." Alexis called out. "Hot date?"

Mother reached the bottom of the stairs and beamed at us.

"Dinning and dancing with Chet Palaburn." Mother informed us.

"What if he turns out to be bloated and ugly?" I asked.

That question of mine earned me a smack from my darling daughter, not to mention a severe admonishing look to boot.

"Oh. How superficial do you think I am?" Mother said.

"Intensely." I shot back. "Mother, what's going on?"

"Present day Martha is going on." Mother declared. "I've had filthy, stinking rich. I've had broke, dirt poor. And you know what I want now? Fun. Just fun."

"And if you aren't what Chet's expecting?" I ventured.

"Oh, please, darling." Mother said. "Look at me. Come on."

To emphasise the point Mother chose that moment to shake her tail feather, so to speak. Both my darling daughter and I laughed.

"It doesn't get any better than that." Mother announced as she turned and headed for the front door, pausing long enough to collect a jacket. "Don't wait up for me kids." She called out. "Mama's on the prowl."

"That poor bastard." I muttered in a low voice once the door was closed.

Alexis turned to look at me.

"Is insanity inherited?" She inquired.

Rather than answer her question I decided to deflect it by suggesting a game of laser tag. My darling daughter was up for a game and within a few minutes the laser tag gear had been located and donned and the lights of the living room had been reduced and the loft had been turned into the field of honour, as the rebels did battle once more with Voltarians for dominance of the omniverse.

XXX

At the time, little did we know of the man Blake Wellesley lost to in that Senate race all those years ago. At the time we did not know his name and little did we realise what part he played in our story.

Yet he was there in the shadows pulling strings, manipulating, ruining lives. In time we would come to know his name and his crimes. But that knowledge came at quite a cost.

XXXXX

_**There you go the end of another case file. Let me know what you thought about this effort by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The Case of Love Me Dead

Part 1

Secrets. We all have them. We all keep them. There are those of us who keep secrets because of National Security reasons. There are those of us who keep secrets to ensure there is no public embarrassment of ourselves or others. Husbands keep secrets from their wives, and wives keep secrets from their husbands. Parents keep secrets from their children and, children keep secrets from their parents.

I for one have one or two secrets, and perhaps even more, that I have kept from Mother. They are episodes from my misspent youth which would have made Mother's hair curl if she had ever learned of them. I certainly wont detail them there here for you, if that's what you're hoping, that's for sure.

As I said children always keep secrets from their parents. Therefore I should not have been too surprised that my darling daughter was keeping secrets from me. My suspicions were aroused one particular night.

I was in my office working on the second Nikki Heat novel. I was basically fleshing out a couple of scenes that had potential of being expanded into full blown chapters. I was not in that zone of total concentration that I am know to get into.

As I was typing away I heard my darling daughter coming down the stairs. She was on the phone talking to someone and that is what caught my attention. I rose from seat and slowly walked out of the office.

"Yeah, I want to, I just...I don't know." Alexis said. "I can't tell him. He'll freak...He will."

Alexis saw me emerge from my office and make my way to the kitchen and was startled.

"I got to go." She told the person on the other end of the line and quickly hung up.

"Who'll freak?" I inquired gently.

"What?"

"Who's going to freak?"

"Oh, um...someone from school." Alexis said quickly. "You don't know them."

My darling daughter's evasiveness had my parent alarms going off like you would not believe. All the same I decided to play it cool.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm." Alexis nodded.

"But I thought I knew all your friends?"

"Hey, I'm sorry, Dad." Alexis said looking apologetic as she moved out of the kitchen heading for the stairs. "But I have a ton of school work."

"Oh. No, yeah. Hey, uh, you know you could tell me anything, right?" I said hesitantly.

"Yeah." Alexis replied as she beat a hasty retreat.

I have always tried to teach Alexis right from wrong. Many of those lessons have come from personal experience. I certainly have trusted her to know right from wrong. I have always made it a point to let her know that she could always come to me with anything that was on her mind and for the most part she always has.

All the same I could not help but feel a little suspicious, that something was going on and Alexis did not feel comfortable enough to come to me and tell me about it. I will be honest, I was a little concerned about that.

My phone started ringing. I answered it. I was a little surprised that it was not Beckett calling to inform me that we had caught a case. It was the duty dispatcher calling. That was not a rarity. On those occasions where Beckett was not able to call me, the dispatcher would do the honours.

Within minutes I was out the front door and on my way to the crime scene.

The cab deposited me on the perimeter of the crime scene just as Beckett arrived. She got out of her car and I quickly moved to catch up with her. I have to say that during the cab ride over I was still thinking about what kind of secrets my darling daughter was keeping from me.

"Hey, Castle," Beckett said in greeting as I fell into step beside her. "I hope we didn't take you away from something important. Or someone?"

"Did you ever keep secrets from your Dad?" I inquired, in way of greeting.

Beckett glanced at me. "Sure."

"What kind?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I turned and looked at her. "About your secrets? Absolutely." I shot back with a hint of a grin on my face which did not last all that long. I wanted to know all her secrets, or at least as many as she was willing to divulge.

"About my daughter's...?" I mused aloud. "You know what? I'm sure it's nothing. Alexis would never keep anything serious from me. I'm the cool dad."

I said that to convince myself and tried to believe it.

"Uh-huh." Beckett replied. There was a strange look on her face as she turned away from me.

There was a car standing at the exit ramp of a parking garage. The reason the car was standing there was because it was damaged. The reason it was damaged was because of the body that used the bonnet of the car as a landing pad. The car was surrounded by a number of CSU people and a couple of representatives from the ME's office. The immediate area was surrounded by uniforms and detectives. The body was of a man and from what I could see was that he had landed face first half way between the roof and windscreen of the car and then came to rest on its back.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Beckett said with some surprise.

It was then that I saw Captain Montgomery standing near the car where the body lay. He was with Esposito and Ryan. It is not all that often when you see Captain Montgomery out in the field at the scene of a murder. I had a feeling that our dead guy was someone important. That feeling was borne out a few moments later.

"Victim's Jack Buckley." Captain Montgomery announced.

"Who's Jack Buckley?" I asked.

"An assistant district attorney. One of the good guys." Captain Montgomery explained. "Buckley hated making deals, loved putting bad guys behind bars."

"He's the lawyer every cop wanted prosecuting their case." Beckett added.

"Well, looks like he did not go down without a fight." Esposito remarked.

"Yeah, his jacket was torn. Found his brief case up on the roof along with his left shoe. CSU is doing a full sweep." Ryan added.

I cast a look in the direction of the roof and then focused my gaze on the body laying on the car. I regarded it carefully for a couple of moments.

"Well, Jack's a big boy. Who ever did it must be strong." I remarked. Suddenly I brightened. "Wait, I know what this is."

The Captain and the three detectives turned to look at me.

"Lawyer puts criminal in jail, criminal feels wronged, criminal kills lawyer. It's _Cape Fear_." I declared.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at what I had said. It was not a serious eye roll and shake of the head because there was a suggestion of a smile upon her lips before she turned her attention to Esposito.

"Any idea what he was doing up there?" She asked.

"No. I talked to his secretary and she said Buckley left work around eight, heading straight home, which is on the West Side." Esposito reported.

"And get this, Buckley was a subway rider. He didn't own a car." Ryan added.

"Then what's he doing in a parking garage on the East Side?" I questioned, unable to stop the frown on my face.

"It's a good question." Captain Montgomery said.

"Was Buckley married?" Beckett asked.

"Divorced. Ex-wife lives in California." Ryan replied.

Being a divorced man whose ex-wife lives in California, I silently offered up my sympathy to the now deceased man.

"Reach out to his wife." Beckett ordered. "Let's start looking into his personal life and see what we can find."

Both Ryan and Esposito nodded their heads acknowledging the order.

"The mayor wants this solved quickly." Captain Montgomery said, his face hardening. "Nobody kills a law enforcement officer and gets away with it."

Captain Montgomery left it to us and headed off. Beckett and I walked over to have a word with the couple whose car had been used as the landing pad for Buckley. The couple, Mr and Mrs Smith, married, both aged in their early to mid forties were perched on the bonnet of a nearby car. They had given a statement to one of the first detectives on the scene.

The Smiths were a little annoyed at having to retell their story but after a few moments they reluctantly did so. It did not take them long to begin bickering again. Basically the Smiths were having an argument as they came down the ramp of the parking garage. The Smiths had been to dinner with Mr Smith's boss. Mrs Smith, it appears was not too happy at her husband laughing too much at her husband laughing at his boss's jokes. Mr Smith's other crime in the eyes of Mrs Smith was that his eyes were constantly looking at his boss's boobs.

As someone who had been in such a situation, I silently sympathised with Mr Smith.

They had emerged from the exit of the parking garage and paused where they bickered some more and that is when Jack Buckley made his landing.

Beckett, not wanting to get in the middle of another round of verbal fisticuffs the Smiths were about to engage in, wound up the interview, thanked them for their time and rapidly moved back to the body which was about to be removed from the bonnet of the car. The ME on duty could not give us any additional information than what was already known but promised to have more once the autopsy had been conducted.

We stayed at the scene for another half hour or so before Beckett decided to call it a night.

XXX

The next morning Beckett and I fronted up to Buckley's office. There was a sombre mood amongst the people in the DA's office. Many people wore looks of shock at hearing the news of Buckley's death. Buckley's secretary, Nicole also looked shocked. The other member of Buckley's office was a girl named Scarlett Price. Scarlett was a pretty girl with blonde hair, nice blue blue eyes, aged in her mid twenties.

Beckett and I had come to the office to get a list of Buckley's cases and also to question his staff.

"I just can't believe that he's dead." Nicole said.

"And you had no idea why he was in the garage?" Beckett asked her.

"No." Nicole shook her head.

Scarlett emerged from Buckley's office carrying an expanding file.

"Here are the print outs of Mr Buckley's cases you wanted." Scarlett announced.

I took the file and quickly opened it and started perusing through the printed pages.

"Thanks." I said. "I'm telling you, this _Cape Fear_ list is going to be a gold mine of suspects."

I had been espousing my _Cape Fear_ theory to Beckett in the car coming over to the office. Beckett had not seem too overly enthusiastic about my theory.

"Check out this guy." I announced as I motioned to the page I had on top. "Archibald Spinks. Five counts of attempted murder, one count of indecent exposure." I glanced at Beckett as a thought came to me. She had been looking at the rap sheet. "You don't suppose he tried to kill them with his..." Beckett gave me a pointed look. "Yeah, that wouldn't work." I said hurriedly.

Beckett had given me one of her looks that sort of killed this idea of mine very quickly. She turned to look at the two women.

"Had Mr Buckley ever receive any threats? Any prosecutions that went ugly?" Beckett asked.

"Well, he didn't think he was doing his job if he wasn't being threatened." Nicole replied. "But nothing recently, no."

"He did seem to be upset the past few days." Scarlett said.

"Any idea why?" I asked.

"No." Scarlett replied.

"You know, there was that man the police brought in." Nicole said suddenly.

"What man?" Beckett asked.

"It was right after lunch Monday." Nicole informed her. "A cop brought in a tough-looking guy handcuffs. Took him right into Mr Buckley's office, and then waited outside."

"Yeah, we heard them yelling through the door, and then the officer took him away." Scarlett added.

"That kind of thing happen a lot?" I asked.

"Never." Scarlett said.

Beckett looked to Nicole.

"Do you remember the officer's name?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah. Frank...Frank...Frank Curtis."

XXX

I was in the break room getting myself a cup of coffee when Beckett walked in. She clutched a rather thick file as she walked over to me.

"Curtis doesn't remember why Buckley asked him to bring the guy in." Beckett informed me. "But he does remember his name. John Knox."

Beckett held up the file in her hand showing me the photograph of said John Knox that was pinned to the front cover.

"Dozens of priors. Uniforms are bringing him in." She added.

"I'm guessing this guy isn't an alter boy." I replied as with my free hand ran it over the file, amazed at its thickness.

"You think? Come on, let's go."

We returned to Beckett's desk where together we went through John Knox's file. Beckett was familiarising herself with the details while we waited for the uniforms to bring Knox in. About fifteen minutes later a pair of uniforms escorted a rather unhappy looking John Knox to one of the interrogation rooms. Beckett did not get up from her desk. She continued going over his file. She always liked to be prepared before she walked into the interrogation room. Half an hour later she was finished. She closed the file and picked it up as she rose to her feet. I also rose to my feet and followed her.

John Knox was aged in his mid thirties, a tall, heavy set man that was made up of firm muscle rather than relaxed muscle, he certainly looked after himself. He had a hard glint in his eyes of someone who knew his way around a fight and had done a lot of bad things. There was no doubt he was pretty handy with his fists and was not afraid to use them if and when he had to. He wore an air of insouciance as he sat at the table, seemingly unconcerned that he had been brought in and left to wait a long time before someone talked to him.

One of the things that immediately struck me about John Knox when I walked into the interrogation room was that he had a more than passing resemblance to the actor Anthony La Paglia, from that FBI missing persons show, _Without A Trace_. He could have easily passed as his younger brother.

"You've got quite the record, Mr Knox." Beckett remarked as she skimmed through the file she had on the table in front of her.

"Your parents must be so proud." I remarked.

"Yeah, they had all my mug shots on the fridge." Knox snapped back. "Can we cut to the chase?"

So, he was not as unconcerned as he had tried to look.

"Two days ago, you had an argument with Buckley in his office." Beckett said. "Last night, we find him dead, so you can understand our interest."

"Sure. But you're wasting your time. I didn't kill the guy." Knox replied.

"Really? Because it says here that you have quite a history of trying to kill people." Beckett motioned to the file in front of her. "Three in the last two years. Or am I missing any?"

"I was never convicted of anything." Knox shrugged.

"That's not exactly a denial."

"Do you work out?" I asked. "You know, bench press? Dead lift? Must take a lot of upper body strength to throw a guy off a roof."

Knox looked at me and laughed.

"Who's this guy?" He said, pointing at me.

"What did you and Buckley fight about?" Beckett asked.

Knox swung his gaze from me to Beckett. He told her that Buckley had it out for him because he had put him on trial for an assault that Knox did not commit and Buckley had lost the case. Knox added that Buckley, rather than being a man about it, he decided to rattle Knox's cage just to show him who was the alpha male. Knox claimed that he found it annoying and childish, but he did not think it was something to kill the guy over, especially when that guy was a district attorney.

"Now, I may be a criminal, but I am not stupid." Knox added, looking almost insulted that Beckett and I would accuse him of murder.

"Do you have an alibi for Buckley's murder?" Beckett inquired.

Knox shrugged. "I don't know. What time was he killed?"

"9:30pm." Beckett informed him.

"I was at an AA meeting." Knox supplied, with a grin.

Beckett regarded Knox for a moment. If she was surprised with his response she kept it well hidden. I have to say that I was a little surprised. Beckett nodded her head slightly.

"Anonymous. That's cute." She replied.

"You don't believe me? Mmm." Knox said with some amusement. "Well, maybe you will believe my sponsor. Reverend Daniel Miller."

"Did you say, 'Reverend'?" I asked, with some surprise.

Knox looked at me and nodded his head, the grin on his face growing.

Beckett kept a straight face as she regarded the grinning Knox. She opened her folio and picked up a pen then looked at Knox and asked him where and how we could contact the good reverend. Knox was only to happy to supply an address and a telephone number.

With that information Beckett and I left the interview room. Knox would be taken to a holding cell while Beckett and I checked out his alibi. As soon as we reached her desk Beckett hit the phone calling up the reverend and inviting him down to the precinct. Reverend Miller informed her that he would come straight away.

XXX

For the next part of this story, I have to thank Detective Ryan.

The good Reverend Miller arrived at the precinct about an hour later. Beckett and I went into one of the conference rooms to speak to him. While that was happening, Captain Montgomery emerged from his office and and stopped by Ryan's desk to speak with him.

"So, where are we with Knox?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"Alibi looks solid." Ryan reported as he got to his feet.

He motioned in the direction of the conference room. Captain looked in the direction of the conference room.

"Castle and Beckett are interviewing the good reverend now." Ryan added.

"What about forensics?"

"Looks like a bust." Ryan said. He reached for a file sitting on his desk and opened it up. "But I did find something interesting when I checked into Buckley's MetroCard history."

Captain Montgomery turned to look at him.

"His card only made two swipes a day for the whole month." Ryan said. "6am at the subway by his apartment, 8pm by his office."

"Buckley lived for the job." Captain Montgomery remarked. "Especially after the divorce. Probably trying to lose himself in the work."

"On the day he was killed, Buckley did something unusual." Ryan continued. "He made an extra trip to West 77th Street before he went to work. His secretary has no idea why."

"See if you can find out." Captain Montgomery ordered.

Ryan nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Yo, Cap, looks like somebody was following our boy Buckley." Esposito called out as he approached the Captain and his partner.

Esposito reported that the door man at Buckley's apartment said that a guy had come in a couple of days ago demanding to talk to Buckley. The door man said that the guy would not take no for an answer. The doorman had to practically throw the guy out. Esposito then said that the doorman had told him on the morning of Buckley's murder, the doorman swore that he saw the same guy hanging around the building.

"I snagged a photo off the video surveillance." Esposito added. He produced the photograph that he had managed to obtain.

The photograph was of a tall blackman.

"Start looking at the mug shot books." Captain Montgomery ordered after looking at the photograph and then headed off.

It was about this time that Beckett and I had finished speaking with Reverend Miller. Much to Beckett's and my disappointment he confirmed that John Knox was with him at the AA meeting, Knox had claimed to have been. Outside the conference room we thanked the Reverend for coming in and sent him on his way.

Beckett seeing the boys standing around at Ryan's desk made a bee line for them.

"Is this for our case?" Beckett asked on seeing the photograph that Esposito was holding.

"Yeah, the guy who tried to hassle Buckley at his building." Esposito said.

I took a look at the photograph in Esposito's hand and immediately recognised the man.

"Wait a second." I said. "I know this guy. Yes, my _Cape Fear_ file."

I had been carrying the _Cape Fear_ file around for a while and had it with me now. I lifted it up and started undoing the rubber band surrounding it. I winced as the sharp bite of pain when the rubber band snapped my finger. I opened it quickly and pulled out one of the rap sheets.

"Right here. Right here." I said eagerly. "His name is Norman Jessup. Buckley got him four years ago in a bank robbery where a guard got shot."

I handed the rap sheet to Esposito who sat down at his desk and called up the information on Norman Jessup on the computer. As he was doing that I looked across to Beckett and grinned.

"See, I told you this file would solve the case."

Beckett gave me an indulgent smile before she turned her attention to Esposito's computer.

"Says here, he got out two weeks ago his conviction was overturned on a technicality." Esposito reported.

"That sounds like a reason for Jessup to celebrate, not to kill Buckley." Beckett frowned.

"Yeah, except Buckley had already filed and Intent to Retry." Esposito added. "Jessup was looking at another two years if Buckley won."

"Well that might have made Jessup a little mad." Ryan remarked.

"Right, and then it's all, 'Come out, come out, wherever you are.'"

I did my impersonation of Robert De Niro from _Cape Fear._

Ryan looked at me, unimpressed.

"Really, that's your De Niro?"

I will admit it needed a little bit of work but I thought it was reasonably good. Beckett too was unimpressed with my impression of De Niro. I caught her rolling her eyes at me.

"Get a current address and a list of known associates." Beckett told Esposito. "I'd like to hear what Jessup has to say."

XXXXX

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

The Case of Love Me Dead

Part 2

It took Esposito about five minutes to get an address for Norman Jessup and a list of known associates. The address took all of about thirty seconds but the known associates list took a few minutes longer. It was not a very long list. With the list in hand Beckett and I headed for the elevator.

Jessup was not at home when Beckett and I came knocking. We were about head back down to Beckett's car and start working down the list of Jessup's known associates when we were waylaid by one of his neighbours, a kindly old woman who lived in the apartment next door. The old lady informed us that Jessup liked to frequent a bar located around the corner from the apartment building.

Beckett smiled and thanked the old lady for her information.

We found the bar without too much trouble.

On entering the place I found it to be small, dark and smokey. There were countless pictures of baseball teams and football teams and even an ice hockey team hanging on the walls competing for space with advertising signs for one brand of beer or another. The neon signs provided coloured illumination, mainly purple and pink. There seemed to be too many people for the space even for this time of the afternoon. It was reasonably busy.

Beckett spotted Norman Jessup and started walking towards him. Jessup was holding up his hands at a man who was ready to punch him.

"Wait, Wait!" Jessup shouted. "You got it all wrong."

The man ignored Jessup's plea and punched him in the face. Jessup came back at the man and they started grappling and throwing punches.

"Take it outside." The bartender shouted but made no move to come from behind the safety of the bar to break up the fight.

Beckett moved a little quicker and approached the fighting men and held up her badge.

"Aren't you going to do something?" I asked Beckett.

"Breaking up a bar fight is a sure way to get hit." Beckett informed me. "Don't worry, it'll be over in a minute."

The man fighting with Jessup punched Jessup and Jessup was propelled to the bar. Beckett and I moved a little closer.

"You know, I was in a bar fight once." I informed Beckett.

"Really? Who won?"

At that moment Jessup pushed off the bar and turned around to confront the man who punched him and threw a punch. Unfortunately Jessup's fist did not make contact with the man he had been fighting. My jaw happened to get in the way. I saw stars at the impact and I spun away clutching my suddenly throbbing jaw. Boy did it hurt!

"Let me guess..." Beckett said as she moved in grabbing hold of Jessup and planted him face down on the bar. "Not you."

My only response to that was in the way of a painful groan. Beckett effortlessly removed her handcuffs and slapped them on Jessup's wrists.

"You want to fight, Mr Jessup? You can fight your way out of a murder charge." Beckett informed the now subdued Norman Jessup.

Beckett grabbed Jessup and hauled him off the bar and marched him out of the place. I followed Beckett still clutching my jaw. It really hurt. To look at Jessup he did not look like much of a fighter but as I discovered his fist packed quite a punch.

Once out on the street Beckett called for a police cruiser to come and pick up Jessup and take him back to the precinct. Jessup did try and apologise for having punched me but I was in a little too much pain to hear him.

The uniforms showed up about five minutes later and Jessup was passed over to them for delivery to the Twelfth. Beckett then turned her attention to me. At first I did not want her to look at my jaw but she insisted and reluctantly I removed my hand and let her take a look.

"You'll live." She prognosticated after a cursory examination of my wounded jaw.

Releasing my wounded jaw Beckett started walking to where she had left her car. I stood there watching her. I was a little disappointed in her lack of concern at my injury. The least she could have done was offer to kiss it better. I let out a huff and quickly ran to catch up with her. On the ride back I complained about the pain and the bruising. I suggested to her that she should kiss it better. At first Beckett ignored the suggestion except for an almost obligatory eye roll but I persisted. I told her that the pain of my boo-boo would be eased is he kissed it better. I even held out my jaw in her direction.

Further urgings to 'kiss it better' were rapidly curtailed when at a set of traffic lights Beckett turned to look at me and said in no uncertain terms that if I kept that up she would give me a matching boo-boo on the other side of my jaw. I had expected Florence Nightingale but instead I got lumbered with Nurse Ratchet.

Back at the precinct I headed to the toilets to inspect my wound in the mirror. Part of my jaw was a little red and did not look too bad but it still hurt. I left the toilets and made my way to the break room where I found an ice pack in one of the fridges. I practically stuck it to the side of my jaw.

Beckett told me to go into the interrogation room where Jessup was sitting and she would join me in a sec. I did as she ordered. I entered the interrogation room and shot an angry glare in Jessup's direction and slowly sat down in the chair opposite him.

Norman Jessup was a tall man aged in his late twenties with a bald head and closely cropped beard. He was sitting at the table. Because he had shown violent tendencies his hands were in cuffs. He was a jittery, talkative kind of person.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend there." Jessup said.

Before I had a chance to respond Beckett walked into the interrogation room. She had heard Jessup's remark.

"I'm not his girlfriend." She informed him as she sat down beside him. "I am a homicide detective. And you should be taking this a little bit more seriously."

"Hey, that guy in the bar, he started the whole thing, okay? He thought I was hitting on his girlfriend, and I was not hitting on his girlfriend. I was just a big misunderstanding." Jessup said rapidly.

"Right." Beckett replied. "Just like the bank robbery."

"Exactly." Jessup said eagerly. "I had no idea my buddies were gonna rob that bank. No...idea... They said their car broke down and they needed a ride, and I gave them a ride."

"And that argument didn't sway Buckley?" I said.

"Can you believe it?" Jessup exclaimed. "He told my lawyer that the guard got shot, and therefore, in the eyes of the law, I was just as responsible as the guy who shot him."

"That must have made you angry." Beckett said. "How did you feel about the fact that Buckley was going to retry your case and try and make you serve the final two years of your sentence?"

Jessup looked at Beckett.

"Honestly, lady, I cried like a baby." He said.

"Huh."

"Prison is not fun, okay? I did not want to go back." Jessup said. "I figured if I could just talk to Mr Buckley, I could let him know where I'm coming from."

"Which is what you were doing at Buckely's building." Beckett suggested.

"Who, whoa. I followed the man around for a couple of days, okay. Just so I could get my courage up to talk to him."

"You were stalking Buckley?" Beckett accused.

"'Stalking' is a pretty ugly word. Let's not use 'stalking', okay?" Jessup replied quickly. "I was just trying to feel the guy out, you know what I mean? Trying to convince him, you know. In case you guys haven't noticed, I'm somewhat of a wordsmith, you know. A real master of, uh, you know, of, uh..."

"Words?" I offered helpfully, trying not to look too surprised.

Jessup nodded his head up and down rapidly.

"Where were you between nine and ten last night?" Beckett asked.

"I was sitting in the bar you guys dragged me out of." Jessup replied.

"Okay. Well, we're going to check into your alibi." Beckett announced. "In the meantime, you're going back into holding until we can process you for assault."

"Oh, Oh! Come on! I said I was sorry!" Jessup exclaimed.

Despite my throbbing jaw which was slowly getting frost bitten as a result of having the ice pack there for too long, I had been listening to the wordsmith's words, what he had been saying to be exact. A thought had suddenly occurred to me.

"Wait." I said to Beckett. "Buckley's mystery trip."

I turned to look at Jessup.

"Were you following Buckley uptown yesterday morning?"

"Yeah, yeah. I was." Jessup nodded his head.

"Where did he go?" Beckett asked.

"He met some Asian dude outside a real fancy apartment building." Jessup informed us. "Then they started to argue with each other. You think maybe that's the guy who killed him?"

"Would you be able to recognise the building if you saw it again?" I said.

"Oh, yeah. I get around." Jessup nodded.

I turned to look at Beckett. "Road trip." I said.

Beckett frowned at my suggestion and the frown deepened somewhat when she cast a look in Jessup's direction. I don't think she was all that enthusiastic at the prospect of chauffeuring around two wordsmiths, one recognised and the other aspiring. After a moment or two she finally consented with a nod of her head.

XXX

We were in Beckett's car heading for the Upper East side. Jessup was sitting in the back seat. His hands were handcuffed. He was still a suspect after all, plus Beckett was eager to have him charged for punching me in that bar.

Jessup leaned forward from the backseat in between the two front seats.

"Hey you guys mind if I take these things off?" Jessup asked, holding his hands out in front of him. "I'm starting to feel like a stereotype riding around in the back of a police car wearing them."

Beckett glanced around to Jessup and then to his handcuffed wrists. I think I caught an amused grin on her lips before she turned her attention back to the road. I got the impression that she did not think that Jessup could escape from the handcuffs but could use the amusement of watching him try to get out of the cuffs just to kill a bit of time on the drive up to the Upper East side.

"Sure. Do you want my key?" Beckett offered.

"No. I got it. Thanks." Jessup replied.

As Jessup sat back and went to work trying to release himself from the handcuffs, I tried to look around to see what he was doing but I couldn't. I heard the handcuffs being worked, and there was a bit of rattling.

A moment later Jessup leaned forward holding out the handcuffs with one finger to me. My eyebrows shot up in surprise at how quickly Jessup had been able to get out of the handcuffs.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

Jessup could not help but laugh.

"I've always been good with locks." Jessup said. "When I was in the joint, I was thinking, 'How can I take this and make it more productive', you know? So I've been applying to locksmith schools. But you know, they wont let me in on account that I'm a felon. Can you believe that? Huh."

"A Felon who wants to be a locksmith. What could possibly go wrong there?" Beckett said sarcastically.

"You don't have to be mean about it." Jessup told her sounding a little hurt.

I looked across to Beckett.

"Yeah." I added. "Wow."

I made the mistake of siding with Jessup. Beckett shot me an unreadable look. I did not realise how angry she was until we came to the next set of traffic lights where she told me to get out of the front seat and get in the back with Jessup. At first I thought Beckett was joking. It only took a look at her face to come to the realisation that she was not joking about this at all. She then told me that I had a choice I could join Jessup in the back or I could walk home. I quickly chose to sit in the back seat with Jessup.

With Beckett not wishing to talk to me for a few moments I turned to Jessup and asked him to show me how he had managed to get out of the Beckett's handcuffs.

"To train to be a locksmith you got to listen." Jessup said. "Left over right, over..."

"I think I made it tighter." I muttered as I struggled with the handcuffs.

"Jessup, do you see the building?" Beckett called out.

Jessup forgot about my struggles with the handcuffs for a moment and looked out the side window to see where were.

"Uh, that's a negative." Jessup replied quickly and then returned to helping me with the handcuffs.

Beckett's phone started ringing.

"Oh, hey Alexis." Beckett said on answering her phone. "Uh, are you looking for your dad? To me? Okay, what's up? Yeah, yeah...we can meet at Suttons around 7:30pm...Is that okay? Alright, I'll see you then."

I quickly had forgotten all about the handcuffs I had been wrestling with the moment when I heard Alexis's name.

"Was that Alexis calling you? Why?" I asked Beckett.

"She needed my advice." Beckett replied. Obviously she had decided that she would speak to me again.

"About what?" I said.

"I don't know." Beckett returned. "It's probably no big deal."

I could not help but start to be worried about Alexis. I was worried that she had not come to me for advice. She always had and now she was asking Beckett for advice. I was worried.

I learned over through the gap between the gap in the seats.

"When you kept secrets from your father, was it not a big deal?" I asked.

Beckett turned her head and saw that I was handcuffed. A look of bewilderment crossed her face before she shook her head.

"You know, I'm not even going to ask." She declared.

A moment later Jessup became a little excited in the seat beside me.

"That's the building on the right hand side." Jessup shouted. "Right here."

"Okay." Beckett said.

"Let's go get them." Jessup said eagerly.

"Not you. Us." She replied.

We found a spot in which to park the car. We got out of the car. I got a shake of the head from Beckett as she used her key to get me out of her handcuffs. The next thing she did was to handcuff Jessup. He was less than pleased at being handcuffed again. I had wisely learned the hard way what happens when it comes to supporting Jessup and remained silent, though I did shoot him a sympathetic look. Beckett then called in a patrol cruiser to take Jessup back to the precinct.

With Jessup taken care of, specifically on his way back to the precinct, Beckett and I headed into the apartment building. The building that Jessup had described back in interrogation as 'real fancy' turned out to be just merely 'fancy' and only at the bottom end of fancy despite the columned frontage.

A short while later Beckett and I were had reached the eight floor and were walking along the hallway. Beckett was on the phone.

"Apartment 801?...Okay, thanks." Beckett said and rang off. She turned to look at me.

"It turns out that the building's only Asian tenant is Paul Cho, who just happened to be Buckley's ex-brother-in-law." Beckett pointed to the door of apartment 801. Together we walked over to the door.

"Oh. Well, maybe it's not _Cape Fear_ then." I said. "Maybe it's _Family Feud_. Maybe Buckley's bitter divorce caused enough hard feelings that things turned violent."

The door to the apartment was opened by Paul Cho. He must have heard us talking so had gone to investigate. Beckett held up her badge for him to see and then introduced us. Cho was nervous all of a sudden but invited us in when Beckett informed him that she had a few questions.

We came to stand in his living room.

"I don't understand. I haven't seen Jack in months." Cho told us. "Not since he divorced my sister."

"Really?" Beckett shot back. "Because I have a witness who saw the two of you arguing yesterday morning. So, that means you're lying to me."

I made a show of wincing as I looked at Cho. I leaned a little towards him.

"She hates being lied to." I confided to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Cho insisted.

"Great." Beckett announced. "Let's go down to the precinct. I'll arrange a perp walk and you can put on a show for the cameras." She turned and started for the front door.

"Love a good perp walk." I told a anxiously looking Cho.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Cho shouted.

There was a satisfied smirk on Beckett's face as she slowly turned around to face Cho.

"The night before last, I was attacked by a man in a ski mask." Cho confessed. "He warned me to tell Buckley to back off Danton or he would ruin me."

"Who's Danton?" Beckett asked.

"I don't know but Jack definitely knew him." Cho replied. "He said he wasn't going to let him get away with this. That's why we were fighting. I told Jack to listen for once in his life. He had to protect me."

"From what?" Beckett said.

"That's none of your business." Cho shot back.

"Perp walk it is." Beckett declared. She took a step towards him.

"Alright, alright." Cho said hurriedly. "I have a slight fondness for girls."

I moved to stand beside Beckett and stared at a mortified looking Paul Cho. We waited for him to continue speaking but he had paused.

"Young girls?" I prompted.

Cho shook his head.

"Fat girls?"

Beckett shot me a look that bordered on amusement. I have been told that there are some men out there who love fat girls, so I felt it was a legitimate question. Cho shook his head to that question.

"School girls?" I asked, with no hint of amusement in my voice or on my face.

As the father of a school girl it was one of my many fears, guys that preyed on school girls. Cho shook his head.

"Call girls." Cho said in a low voice.

I was visibly relieved to hear that answer. Glancing at Beckett I saw her relax a little at Cho's confession.

"Who else knows about this fondness?" Beckett asked him.

"Just the girls." Cho said.

"Actually," I interjected looking at Beckett. "The girls and their pimp."

"Whose name is probably Danton." Beckett added.

"Oh, okay, fine. But I wasn't lying...I...I've actually never met Danton." Cho said. "I got a phone number for the agency from a friend. I call it and they send over a girl."

"So, Buckley is investigating Danton's call-girl ring." I theorised as I looked at Beckett. "When Danton discovers that Buckley's brother-in-law is a client, he sends a message, 'Back off, or your family gets hurt'."

"And then, when Buckley doesn't back down, Danton kills him." Beckett added.

I nodded my head in agreement. "So, how do we find Danton?"

"We talk to one of his girls." Beckett said.

I suddenly broke into a smile which mirrored the smile on Beckett's face as we had reached the same conclusion. We turned and faced Paul Cho.

"Call that number and tell him to bring one of his girls." Beckett ordered him.

"And tell her to wear something sexy." I added. Beckett turned to look at me. "No reason we can't enjoy this interview."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head.

At first Cho was a little reluctant to call up the call-girl but he was quickly persuaded that option would be in his best interests unless he wanted to undergo the perp walk. Beckett even produced her handcuffs as an added incentive. Cho quickly called the number of the call-girls and set up a meeting.

Beckett and I did not have to wait for too long. About forty-five minutes later Cho's front door bell buzzed. Beckett and I moved to a spot off the living room and out of sight of the front door. On a nod from Beckett Cho went to the door and answered it.

"Hey, Paul. Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" The woman said.

Cho let her in but did not say anything. The girl, a blonde in a tight fitting red cocktail dress was removing her coat when Beckett and I made our entrance.

"Actually, I'm the one who asked for the date." Beckett informed her, holding up her badge.

The woman turned around and, my eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. It was the girl from Buckley's office, Scarlett Price.

"Isn't that the girl from Buckley's office?" I whispered to Beckett. "Did she look like that before?"

The answer to that question is an emphatic 'no'.

XXXXX


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The Case of Love Me Dead

Part 3

Scarlett had been sitting in the interrogation room for a little while before Beckett and I entered the room. She looked a little tearful and fearful at now finding herself sitting in an interrogation room of a police precinct. Once we had sat down I got the ball rolling.

"So, how exactly does a call girl end up working for Jack Buckley, Super DA?" I asked.

"Am I under arrest?" Scarlett asked.

"You will be if you don't answer the question." Beckett informed her.

"Jack was a client." Scarlett said.

"I...I'm sorry Scarlett, I don't believe that." Beckett replied.

Scarlett looked at Beckett for a moment and then shifted her gaze to me before returning it Beckett. She was silent for a moment but then she told us that she had been seeing Buckley for about a year. Buckley had not been with anyone since his divorce and he was just lonely. Scarlett said that they would spend most their dates just talking. Buckley would take her to fancy restaurants even though Scarlett had told Buckley he did not have to. Scarlett added that she thought he wanted to make it feel as normal as possible.

Then, one night Buckely had spotted a law book in Scarlett's bag and she had told him that she was only working as an escort to pay her way through law school. A few months later Buckley had told her that he had an internship opening up in his office and asked if she would be interested.

"He wanted to help you escape the life?" Beckett asked.

Scarlett nodded her head.

"Who's Danton?" I asked.

"I don't know." Scarlett replied.

"Don't lie to us, Scarlett."

Scarlett insisted that she was not lying. Scarlett told us that she knew that he ran the business but she had never actually met him. She said that it was not like she was the street walker and Danton was the guy in the fedora and long fur coat. Danton had organised the entire operation to protect his identity. Scarlett added that the girls were independent contractors. The clients were given numbers so that the girls don't know their last names. The clients paid the business with their credit cards, and the girls' fees get deposited directly into their bank accounts.

"Creating the perfect firewall between the girls and the management." I said looking at Beckett.

"So, then when we arrest you, you can't give up Danton." Beckett added.

"Because I don't know who he is." Scarlett said.

Beckett wound up the interview with Scarlett and left the interrogation room. I smiled and nodded to Scarlett before I rose to my feet and followed Beckett out of the room.

A short while later Beckett was standing at the murder board. She had written the name 'Danton' on the board and under it she had drawn a question mark. We had run into Captain Montgomery as we headed back to the bullpen and had informed him about Jack Buckley's proclivity. The Captain too was standing at the murder board staring at the photograph of Buckley.

"I can't believe Jack Buckley was seeing prostitutes." Captain Montgomery said with a shake of his head, still trying hard to believe the news he had been told.

"Yeah, well, he worked 14 hours a day." Beckett replied. "Didn't have a social life. Maybe he just wanted a little easy company."

"Well, the math just doesn't add up, though." I said as I moved over to the Captain and Beckett. "Buckley was warned to back off Danton. Why would Buckley be investigating a call-girl service he was using?"

"Maybe Danton tried to blackmail Buckley and it backfired?" Beckett suggested.

"So, then Danton tried to scare Buckley by threatening the brother-in-law. And then when that didn't work, Danton killed Buckley." I said.

"Alright. Let's find out everything we can about this Danton." Captain Montgomery ordered. "Have Ryan and Esposito reach out to Vice in the morning."

"Yes sir." Beckett responded.

Captain Montgomery gave the murder board one final look before he left and disappeared into his office. Beckett walked over to her desk and picked up a clipboard.

"Castle, I need you to sign these charges against Jessup." Beckett said as she passed the clipboard and a pen to me. "So I can send him downtown."

I looked down at the charge sheet but my hand which was holding the pen hesitated.

"What? No." Beckett exclaimed. "Don't tell me you've got a soft spot for this guy?"

"He's a wordsmith." I said with a little pout.

Beckett looked at me and shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, fine."

Beckett picked up her phone and dialled a number.

"Hi, it's Beckett." she informed the person who answered her call. "Uh, charges are being dropped against Jessup. Process him out. Alright, thank you." Beckett put the phone down and turned to look at me. "I hope the two of you are very happy together." The last remark was punctuated with an amused grin on her face followed by another shake of her head.

There were a couple of reasons I did not want to have Norman Jessup charged. The first reason was because he was a wordsmith, okay, he was not the greatest of wordsmiths and may never get a book published but all the same we wordsmiths have to stick together.

The other reason was a little more personal and embarrassing. I did not want all the world to know that I had walked into a punch in a bar fight. It would not have done anything for my reputation and I could picture the merciless teasing I would be on the receiving end of once word get out. I could certainly do without that.

I had been half expecting some good natured joking from Beckett over the incident but much to my surprise she had not said anything about it.

I was walking through the hallway on my way to the elevator but stopped when I spotted Scarlett Price sitting on one of the benches. She was holding a broken shoe that she was staring at.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No. I broke a heel." Scarlett replied. She held up the broken shoe for me to see.

I came over and sat down beside her.

"Let me guess." I said gently. "They were your favourite pair. Passed through your family for generations."

"My great-great-grandmother wore them over on the _Mayflower_." Scarlett smiled.

"I knew it." I said. "So, what's a nice girl like you..."

"Really? That's your line?"

"I'm old fashioned."

Scarlett smiled and nodded her head.

"I came to New York in this ancient blue Beetle. The floor was so rusted, it literally sagged in the middle." Scarlett said. "But I can still remember coming over the bridge, and seeing the city right there in front of me. I thought everything was going to be perfect."

"Something tells me this story takes a turn for the worse." I said.

Scarlett nodded her head.

"The first night, somebody broke into my car and stole all my stuff." She said. "Then, the college friend I was going to stay with told me her boyfriend was moving in. I had to find another place."

"Oh."

"But somehow I survived." Scarlett informed me. "Spent a year barely eating, living in a closet. When a friend mentioned doing this, I thought, 'it couldn't be worse.'"

"And is it?" I asked.

"Mostly, no." Scarlett turned to look at me and smiled. "Thanks for listening."

Scarlett rose to her feet and walked away. A couple of moments later Beckett came walking past.

"Night, Castle." She called out.

I jumped to my feet and fell into step beside her.

"Going to meet Alexis?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Can I come?"

"No." She said firmly.

"But I want to."

Beckett stopped and turned. She slowly walked to where I was standing.

"Why are you so worried, Castle? I thought you were the Cool Dad?" She said. Then with a shake of her her she turned and proceeded to the elevator.

"I am." I called out.

XXX

I arrived home a little later than I had anticipated. I had left the precinct and wandered around for a little while, trying to figure out what possible reason would my darling daughter have to speak to Beckett about. I could not come up with anything and rather than continue to wander through the streets of New York I headed home.

I found Mother sitting cross legged on the couch meditating. I put away my coat and immediately went over and sat down near her.

"What's the secret?" I demanded of her.

"All in the breathing, dear." Mother replied.

"No. What's Alexis' secret that she'll tell Beckett but not me?" I asked trying not to sound too anxious.

Mother opened her eyes and turned to look at me.

"I don't know." She said. "There are some things a woman wants to talk to another woman about."

"_The New York Times_ praised the depth of my female characters." I insisted.

Mother leaned over and took hold of my hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know. And I couldn't be prouder." She said with a smile. "But this is real life. And obviously, Alexis looks up to Beckett, and Beckett's smart and strong and independent."

"So are you."

"That's sweet." Mother cooed. "I'm on the wrong side of forty for what Alexis is going through right now."

"Forty?" I said.

"Deflect all you want, kiddo, but I recognise the fear in your eyes." Mother said. "You're afraid Alexis has more Rick Castle in her than you thought."

Did I? I didn't think so. I frowned at Mother's response. If anything my darling daughter was the most responsible of all three members of this family. I was rather proud of that fact.

As I was pondering Mother's remarks, the front door opened and in walked my darling daughter.

I turned to greet Alexis.

"Hey, sweetie! How did your talk with Beckett go?" I asked breezily.

"Fine. She's really nice." Alexis replied.

"Yeah, she is." I said. "You know sweetheart, if you don't want to tell me what you talked about with Beckett, you don't have to."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad."

Alexis turned and quickly made her way up the stairs.

"What's the matter with you? Why didn't you just ask her?" Mother said.

"Because that would be prying." I informed Mother. "And cool dads don't do that."

Mother shook her head at me.

"They go behind their daughter's back and they beg Beckett to tell them." I added.

I rose from the couch and disappeared into my office. No, I didn't call Beckett then and there. I would have if I thought Beckett would tell me about the meeting. I had a strong feeling she would not. I decided that I would leave the matter until the morning.

XXX

Once more I am indebted to Detective Ryan for the next part of the story.

The following morning Ryan and Esposito stepped out of the elevator and made their way to their desks. The boys were in conversation.

"Did you ever have any cases with Buckley?" Ryan asked his partner.

"A few." Esposito replied. "Guy was wound a little tight if you ask me. Saw himself as a crusader for justice."

"Yo, Esposito."

Esposito and Ryan looked up to see Detective Gil Mazzara standing in the hallway, smiling at them.

"Gil Mazzara. What's up man?" Esposito replied, shaking the man's hand.

"How're you doing?" Mazzara replied.

"So you still looking at dirty pictures up in Vice?" Esposito asked.

"Yeah, tell your mom to send over some new ones. The ones I got are getting old." Mazzara retorted.

Esposito indicated to Ryan.

"You know my partner, Ryan."

"Hey." Ryan said as he shook the other detective's hand.

"Yeah, Honey-milk. Nice to see you." Mazzara said with a grin. He turned to look at Esposito and didn't see the look that appeared on Ryan's face. "So, I hear you're looking to talk about Danton?"

"Yeah, you know him?" Esposito replied.

Mazzara nodded his head. "Yeah. I arrested him about five years ago." Mazzara said. "Real name's Dan Toneli."

"Dan-ton." Ryan nodded his head in understanding.

"Yeah." Esposito added.

"He's currently serving a seven year stretch in Green Haven Correctional." Mazzara added.

"Wait a minute. He's still in prison?" Ryan questioned.

"And your boy Buckley put him there." Mazzara said.

"Buckley prosecuted Danton?" Esposito said.

"Yeah. And he was all over us to make a rock-solid case." Mazzara said. "We gave Buckley enough to put him away for twenty years."

"Could Tonelli still be running the operation out of prison?" Ryan asked.

"Nah, these call girl-rings are like franchises." Mazzara informed the boys. "The business changes hands, but the name stays the same."

"So who's the new Danton?" Esposito asked.

Mazzara shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I knew. Guy's like a ghost. Every time we think we're getting close, he disappears. Five warrants in the last five years and every time we show up, the place has been cleared out like they knew we were coming."

Esposito nodded his head. He turned to look at his partner.

"You call the prison, get them to bring Tonelli over here." He ordered.

Ryan nodded his head.

XXX

I arrived at the precinct a little after lunch. I had a couple of meetings to attend to in the morning which prevented me from getting to the precinct earlier. As I was walking through the hallway towards the bullpen I passed a handcuffed man being escorted by a guard. Entering the bullpen I found that Beckett's desk was empty.

"Hey, you guys seen Beckett?" I asked Ryan and Esposito.

"She went with the Captain to update City Hall on the case." Esposito informed me. "She'll be here in a minute."

"Something wrong?" Ryan inquired. He had noticed the expression that I was wearing on my face.

I was still a little worried about what had transpired at the meeting with Alexis and Beckett last night. At breakfast this morning, I had tried to weedle it out of Alexis but as I was still maintaining the image of the Cool Dad my efforts did not get anywhere. My darling daughter was not forthcoming with any information.

"No." I told Ryan. "Yes...I think my daughter might be keeping something from me."

"Maybe she got kicked out of school?" Ryan suggested.

I turned and looked at Ryan. "What?" I said.

"Or she's doing drugs." Esposito added.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan nodded his head in agreement. "Teenage pregnancy is on the rise." He added.

"Whoa. Alright, you've met my daughter." I told the boys. "You know that she is the closest thing to perfect as humanly possible."

"Castle, come on." Ryan scoffed with a grin on his face. "You've been with us long enough to know that people are never who you think they are. Isn't it possible your perfect daughter isn't as perfect as you think?"

I was a little taken aback by what the boys were saying. I was all ready to defend my daughter's honour but I did not get the chance to as Beckett made an appearance.

"Is Danton here yet?" She asked.

"Yeah. Interrogation room one." Esposito informed her.

"Wait, Danton?" I said with some surprise.

"Come on, Castle, keep up." Beckett smirked.

Before I followed Beckett to the interrogation room, I shot the boys an angry glare. I did not know if they were being serious or just pulling my leg because they were bored. Regardless, they had filled my head with thoughts about my daughter that I did not want to contemplate. I tried to put aside those thoughts and tried to concentrate on the case. By those thoughts hovered in the background, plaguing me.

Dan Tonelli, also known as, Danton was a tall thin man with a head of grey hair. He was aged in his mid fifties. There was an expression on his face that was something between boredom and curiosity. He seemed to be pleased at being let out for a few hours even though the excursion was to a police interrogation room. He was dressed in a green prison suit.

Beckett and I were seated on one side of the table and Tonelli sat across from us. As soon as Beckett had sat down at the table she had opened her portfolio. Before walking into the interrogation room Beckett had passed over to me Tonelli's file to peruse.

"We brought you in to talk about Danton." Beckett informed Tonelli.

"Ancient history." Tonelli shot back with a smirk.

"Says here Buckley made a deal with you." I said glancing down at a file in front of me. "Seven years instead of twenty. But I heard that Buckley didn't make deals."

"What can I say? I got lucky." Tonelli said, still smiling.

"The only reason Buckley would agree to a deal is because you brought him something big in return." Beckett said. "So, what was it?"

Tonelli shrugged his shoulders. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Because he's dead." I told Tonelli.

A look of surprise appeared on Tonelli's face. He looked from me to Beckett.

"What? How?" He said.

"He was murdered two nights ago." Beckett said. "We believe that the same person who took over your operations killed him."

Tonelli looked at Beckett and then started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Beckett asked.

"Well, you see, that would make it suicide." Tonelli laughed.

"Suicide?" I said, looking confused.

A surprised expression appeared on Beckett's face.

"Wait a minute. You're saying that Jack Buckley was the new Danton?"

Tonelli nodded his head.

"Buckley made me a deal." Tonelli said. "I provide him my client list, my girls, he knocks thirteen years off my sentence. It was a no-brainer."

I turned to look at Beckett, there was a gleeful look on my face as I tried not to laugh.

"Our DA was a pimp." I said.

Talk about a story getting better and better. This was a twist no one saw coming.

It took a few minutes for both Beckett and I to overcome our surprise at this revelation. Beckett asked Tonelli a few more questions but it seemed his story was solid. With nothing more to get out of him, Beckett turned him over guards to take him back to prison.

On emerging from the interrogation room Beckett made an immediate beeline for the Captain's office to inform him of the latest piece of information that we had discovered during our interrogation of Dan Tonelli. I on the other hand walked over to the murder board.

After a few minutes Beckett joined me. In response to my silent question about how it went in the Captain's office she merely responded with a shake of her head that seemed to say 'don't ask'. I left it at that. Beckett stepped up to the murder board and took a picture of Buckley and stuck it under the name of Danton.

"Jack Buckley was Danton." I said. "That's why all Vice's warrants failed. They had to go through the DA's office and Buckley saw them coming. He was in the perfect position to protect his operation."

"But why would a respected prosecutor become a pimp?" Beckett questioned.

"The outfits?" I suggested. Beckett rolled her eyes at me.

Esposito walked over.

"It was the money." He informed us. "Buckley's ex-wife took him to the cleaners. Between alimony and his own bills, Buckley was beyond broke."

"You know, I'm betting it was more than just the money." I suggested. "Everybody's talking about how great Jack Buckley was. How he was the law. You start thinking like that, sometimes you can start thinking maybe you are above the law. That you can get away with anything."

A troubled looking Captain Montgomery emerged from his office and came to join us.

"Sir, how did the Mayor handle the news?" Beckett asked him.

"Ooh, you don't want to know." Captain Montgomery replied.

"Okay, this doesn't make any sense." Beckett said. "If Buckley was the new Danton, then why would the masked man tell Buckley to back off Danton? Buckley wouldn't threaten himself. Unless...Buckley wasn't the boss anymore."

I always adored the way Beckett would ask questions aloud and then find the answers herself a moment later.

"A hostile takeover." Captain Montgomery suggested.

"Of course. We know Danton was a business name." I said, joining in. "So, 'Back off Danton' was the new boss telling the old boss, 'Don't resist the takeover, or I'll start ruining reputations.'"

"Makes sense in theory." Captain Montgomery agreed. "But how do you prove it?"

"We talk to the call-girl." Beckett announced. "There is no way that Scarlett didn't know that Buckley was in charge."

XXXXX

_**So, what did you think of this chapter. Let me know by dropping me a line, I'd like to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

The Case of Love Me Dead

Part 4

On the ride over to the DA's building I had tried to get out of Beckett what she and Alexis had talked about last night. Beckett refused to divulge what had been discussed. At first I tried to play it cool but in all honesty it was not working. I was more than a little concerned. Despite my concerns I decided to let it go for the time being.

However, I did not let it go for too long because I tried again when Beckett and I were walking in the hallway heading for Buckley's office.

"No, seriously. What did Alexis tell you last night?" I asked Beckett.

"I promised I wouldn't say." Beckett replied.

"Well at least...at least tell me if it was bad."

Beckett paused at the door and looked at me. There was an amused look on her face.

"And put you out of your misery?"

She opened the door and entered the office. I could have gone of two ways. I could have gone full panic mode or played it cool. I chose the later. Despite my growing concerns and Beckett's reticence to inform me about what they had discussed last night, I took some comfort in the belief that if it had been a really serious situation Beckett would have told me.

On entering Buckley's outer office we found a few packing boxes sitting on the floor being filled with files. Nicole was standing at her desk putting files in another box.

"We're looking for Scarlett." Beckett told Nicole.

"She's packing her things." Nicole replied, with a frown. "We can't have call girls working here."

"No, only pimps." I shot back.

Nicole gave me a glare that could have cut me down in half. Under normal circumstances it might have had an affect but I had grown a little immune to that sort of thing. The only glare that really had any affect on me was the one that the woman standing beside me directed in my direction when she was annoyed or angry from time to time.

Scarlett emerged from Buckley's office carrying a box that was filled with her belongings.

"Detective." She said, looking a little surprised at finding Beckett and I standing there.

"Could you give us a moment, please?" Beckett said, looking at Nicole.

Nicole hesitated a moment but consented with a nod of her head. She left the front office and disappeared into Buckley's office. Beckett turned to look at Scarlett.

"Scarlett, you lied to us." Beckett said, not bothering to beat around the bush. "Buckley was running the call girl ring, and there's no way you didn't know."

"Please, I had to lie." Scarlett replied, looking a little worried. "He'd kill me if he thought I told you anything."

"Who'd kill you? The new Danton?" I said.

Scarlett did not respond to that question.

"Someone took over Buckley's business." Beckett pressed. "Who was it? Answer me."

Scarlett looked a little frightened as she looked from Beckett to me and back to Beckett.

"He used to work for Buckley." Scarlett said in a low voice. "He made sure no one hurt the girls and everyone paid."

"What was his name?" Beckett demanded.

"I can't tell you that." Scarlett replied, more than a little concerned.

Beckett took a step closer to the young woman.

"Scarlett, I'm done playing. You've done nothing but lie to us." Beckett said angrily. "Don't think I'm not going to send you away for obstruction of justice and anything else I can think of."

"He'll kill me." Scarlett said, looking frightened.

"We wont let that happen." I told Scarlett. "Detective Beckett can help you, but you have to help us first."

"And then what happens to me?" Scarlett retorted, looking even more worried. "You think I'm going to be a lawyer now? Jack was going to write me a letter of recommendation, pull some strings to get me a job. Who's going to help me now?"

"Honestly? No one." I said.

Scarlett looked at surprise at my response but it was nothing to the look Beckett shot me. It was if she had been expecting me to spin Scarlett some wild and fanciful but half believable story. She did not expect that I would tell the truth.

"You are going to have to do it yourself, Scarlett and I got a feeling that you can." I added as I looked at the young woman. "Tell us who the new boss is, and Detective Beckett will make sure no one knows it was you who talked to us."

Beckett turned her head and looked at me. This time it was a look of surprise and annoyance. Annoyed that I had been presumptuous to make a promise that was not in my purview to make. I thought I saw a half raised eyebrow directed at me that said that we would be discuss this little matter at a later time.

"You promise?" Scarlett said, trying not to sound hopeful.

Beckett shot me another glare before she slowly turned to face Scarlett.

"Yes." Beckett said.

"His name is John Knox." Scarlett informed us.

"Knox? But that's..." I muttered turning to look at Beckett.

"The guy Buckley dragged in here in cuffs." Beckett supplied.

At first Beckett was not exactly totally sold on Scarlett's response and asked a few more questions of Scarlett until she accepted what the young woman had said.

It was early evening when we emerged from the DA's building and got into Beckett's car for the return to the precinct. Beckett and I were silent for a few minutes both of us weighing the information that Scarlett had given us.

"How does a prosecutor get into business with a criminal?" Beckett asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, it's hard out there for a pimp who is also a DA." I replied, a little glibly. Suddenly my eyes lit up with excitement. "Ooh, that be a good character for a novel."

"Mmm." Becket murmured, trying not to smile too much.

I turned to look at Beckett.

"A star prosecutor who's always excelled at everything he's ever done. He couldn't possibly imagine that being a pimp would be a bigger job than he can handle by himself." I theorised. "But one day he gets a call, one of his girls has been knocked around by a client. He realises there's nothing he can do about it, he's a very public figure."

"Mm-hmm." Beckett nodded her head.

"So, a white collar prosecutor decides to hire a blue collared enforcer. Can't exactly take out an ad on Craigslist for that. But fortunately enough, he has a big stack of qualified candidates sitting right on his desk."

"Which is where he found John Knox." Beckett added. "A criminal who mostly managed to stay out of prison."

"Which makes him a smart criminal." I added.

"Yeah."

"Buckley offers him a deal. 'Come work for me, I'll throw your case.' And Knox does."

"Mmm-hmm." Beckett murmured as she nodded her head again.

"For a while, everyone is happy." I continued on with my theory. "But then Knox decides he's not happy being number two anymore. He takes Buckley's client list, tells Buckley to take a hike."

"Knowing that Buckley can't do anything about it without risking exposure." Beckett supplied.

"Mm-hmm. But Buckley's never backed down from a fight in his life." I said. "He gets the cops to drag Knox down to his office to remind him who's boss."

"But Knox took it up a notch, sending a warning shot across Buckley's bow by threatening his brother-in-law." Beckett suggested.

"And when Buckely wouldn't back down, Knox threw him off the roof of the parking garage."

"Jeez, if only we had some proof." Beckett sighed.

I looked at Beckett with an excited look on my face.

"Who needs proof? What a great story."

The excitement I felt did not last too long. The smile faded from my face.

"Of course, Knox has an alibi." I added, unhappily.

"You know, maybe you're right." Beckett ventured.

I looked at Beckett.

"Maybe Knox is smart." She said. "Maybe he sent someone else."

My face lit up again.

"Oh, I like the twist." I said eagerly. "The enforcer has an enforcer."

Beckett nodded.

"But who?" I asked.

We agreed that we had to take another run at Knox. We both doubted that we would get anything new out of him but we had to at least try. Beckett made a call to try to get Knox's current location. The information was supplied and we headed over.

Beckett and I were walking down a street Up town approaching a bar. Beckett's information was spot on because standing out the front of the bar was Knox. He was talking to a couple of guys. Laughing and joking with them. Knox spotted our approach. He said goodbye to the guys he was talking to and they headed into the bar while Knox made his way to the edge of the side walk.

"Hi, remember us?" I said without any trace of humour in my voice.

Knox smirked as he turned his attention from me to Beckett who was holding up her badge. His smirk deepened a little as he raked her up and down with his eyes.

"I definitely remember you." Knox told Beckett.

"We need to ask you some questions." Beckett told him.

"I already answered your questions."

"Maybe you didn't see the badge?" I said.

"Oh, I saw it." Knox said glancing at me.

It was at that moment a pair of very attractive young ladies emerged from the bar. A blonde and a brunette. They were dressed in tight fitting short dresses and faux fur coats. They were your stereotypical call girls that could have come straight from Central Casting.

The two young ladies came up to Knox who greeted them with a smile.

"You ladies ready?" Knox asked them. He got nods from both ladies. "Excellent."

Knox and the ladies started to move. He looked at us with a smirk.

"You two have a nice evening." He said as he and the two ladies walked off down the street.

Beckett and I watched as Knox and his two companions disappeared down the street. I was a little angry that the guy could simply just walk off. I turned to look at Beckett. She did not looked too pleased that Knox had walked off.

"Aren't you going to stop him?" I asked.

"I can't." Beckett replied. "Unless we arrest him, the law says he doesn't have to talk to us. And he knows that."

"So arrest him." I urged.

"On what grounds?" Beckett shot back. "We promised Scarlett that we'd keep her name out of it."

I frowned. Beckett was right.

"So, unless we get some evidence, he's getting away with this."

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it immediately. I saw the look on Beckett's face. She was angry that there was the possibility that Knox might just get away with murder and she did not like that prospect one little bit. Any remark out of my mouth would not have helped one little bit, so wisely I kept my mouth shut. I merely fell into step beside her as we headed to where we had parked her car.

On reaching Beckett's car I informed her that I would grab a cab home. Beckett offered to give me a lift but I declined. I suspected, quite rightly I might say, that she was going to back to the precinct to do some more work. So, I left her to find a cab but not before telling her not to work too long. She promised she would not but it's Beckett, she would at least a couple more hours before she called it a night.

Mother and Alexis were out for the evening so I made a stop at my favourite Chinese takeaway and picked some dinner to bring home. It was a little late in the evening and I was not really feeling up to cooking so, takeaway Chinese it was.

Emerging from the elevator I reached for my front door key as I came around the corner. I was startled to find someone sitting in front of my door.

"Scarlett?" I said with some surprise.

Scarlett Price turned to look at me. She had been crying and her face looked like it had been used as a punching bag.

"You're hurt." I said as I quickly came up to her.

"I didn't know where else to go." Scarlett said, snuffling back some tears.

Well we could not stay out here in the hallway all night. So I helped Scarlett to her feet and let her into the loft. I directed her over to the couch and sat down beside her after setting my dinner on the coffee table. I reached behind the couch and set a box of tissues in front of her.

"You should go to hospital." I said gently.

"It's just a few bruises." Scarlett replied. "I'll be fine."

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"A client in the publishing business gave me your address." Scarlett explained, looking a little apologetic.

I smiled and nodded my head.

Scarlett noticed the box of Chinese takeaway sitting on the coffee table.

"Dinner for one?" She said.

"Yeah. My family is at the theatre." I explained.

"Good. I wouldn't want anyone to see me like this."

"Did Knox do this to you?"

"It doesn't matter." Scarlett said with a shake of her head.

"Of course it does." I replied. "You think by protecting him you're saving yourself somehow? Because you're not. And if you don't get out from under his thumb now, you never will."

"Why are you so nice to me?" Scarlett sniffled.

"How do you know I'm not this nice to all the beautiful women I find on my doorstep?" I said with a small smile.

Scarlett forced a smile to her face as she looked at me.

"You really think I'm beautiful?" Scarlett asked with some surprise.

"Look, maybe we should..."

I did not get to finish the sentence because Scarlett leaned across and kissed me. I pulled back quickly before anything else happened. It was not right. I was never against kissing beautiful women but this just wasn't right. I felt like I would be taking advantage of her and that is the last thing I wanted. Scarlett saw the look on my face.

"I'm sorry." She said in a low voice.

"No."

"I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay, its...You're hurt and you're scared." I said. "But you don't have to be that person with me. You're safe here."

"Knox killed Buckley." Scarlett declared.

I shook my head slowly. "No. No, he had an alibi." I replied.

Scarlett reached for her bag and opened it. She pulled out a large envelope. She opened the envelope and pulled out a photograph. She passed the photograph to me. My eyebrows shot up skywards on seeing the photograph. In the background a half naked Reverend Daniel Miller was sitting on a bed. In the foreground was Scarlett getting dressed.

"The Reverend." I said.

"Knox made me take it." Scarlett explained. "Reverend Daniel is a client. Knox is blackmailing him into saying they were together when Buckley was killed."

"Thank you." I said.

This was the evidence that would put Knox behind bars.

"Now, I'm taking you to a hospital. No arguments." I added.

Scarlett nodded her head

"Okay."

We caught a cab and I took Scarlett to St Vincent's. I stayed with her for a little while.

XXX

I got to the precinct early and parked myself in my chair beside Beckett's desk. While I waited for Beckett to arrive I focused my attention to the murder board. My wait was not long because about ten minutes later Beckett made her appearance.

"Hey." Beckett called out as she reached her desk.

"I'm thinking Knox killed Buckley." I replied in greeting as I stared at the murder.

"Knox has an alibi." Beckett retorted.

"Mmm does he?" I mused. I held out the envelope that Scarlett had given me the night before. "Reverend Alibi, in the flesh. Lots of flesh." I said.

Beckett took the envelope from me and pulled out the photograph. Her eyes widened in surprise at what she was seeing.

"Too much flesh." I added.

"Where did you get this?" Beckett asked.

"Scarlett Price."

"You saw her without me?"

Beckett was suddenly angry. She was angry at me. This was not going the way I had pictured it in my head when I came in earlier and planted myself in the chair. I had been expecting a 'good work' or a pleased smile or something. Facing the Wrath of Beckett was nowhere on my list.

"Uh, well, yes." I stammered in response to her question.

"She's a person in our investigation. Our murder investigation."

"No, I know."

"Where did you see her?"

"Uh, my apartment."

"What?" Beckett's anger was rising up a notch or two.

"When I came home last night, she was in my hall, and somebody had beaten her up." I said hurriedly.

"And you didn't think to call me?"

That was a pretty good question. I should have called her but the thought had not occurred to me.

"Well, I took her to the hospital and the night kind of got away from me, and then I came here, you know, to surprise you. Like...Like I do."

I got the full force of the Beckett Glare as she leaned close to me. For just a moment I thought she was going to hurt me.

"We're not done talking about this." she warned in an ominous tone, that had me more than a little uncomfortable.

"Esposito." She called out.

"Yeah."

Beckett pushed away from me and started walking over to Esposito's desk.

"Have surveillance pull in Knox." Beckett ordered.

"On it." Esposito replied reaching for his desk phone.

"Whoa. You had Knox under surveillance? You didn't tell me?" I said with some surprise.

"At least I didn't go out on a date with him." Beckett snapped.

"It wasn't a date."

"Really?"

I could be wrong but I got the impression that Beckett was a little angrier than normally she would be when I did something like this. I could not quite put my finger on it. I did not have much time to ponder that because Esposito got off the phone.

"Trouble." He announced as he got to his feet.

Beckett and I turned to look at him.

"Knox's apartment is empty. He must have slipped out during the night."

I suddenly became very worried.

"Scarlett." I said, as I reached for my phone. "I left her at Saint Vincent's Hospital."

I dialled the hospital.

"Yes, hello, I dropped a young woman off there last night." I said quickly. "Her name is Scarlett Price. She'd been beaten up. I need to speak to her right away, please...What?...When?...Thank you."

I rang off and looked at Beckett.

"A man checked her out last night, right after I left."

"Knox." Beckett declared.

I slumped against a nearby desk. I was not exactly feeling the best right at that moment. I had left her alone and Knox had come along and gotten her out of hospital. I should not have done that.

Beckett turned to the boys, already moving into action, while I started to wallow in self pity.

"Get a unit to Scarlett's apartment and get an APB on both of them." She ordered.

Ryan and Esposito reached for their phones.

At that moment my own phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"He's got me." Scarlett's voice said frantically.

I was startled to hear from her.

"Scarlett! Hang on, hang on." I quickly put the call on speaker phone.

"I think he's going to kill me." Scarlett said hurriedly.

"Where are you?" I asked, trying not to sound frantic.

"I don't know..."

"Hey, what are you doing in there?" That second voice belonged to John Knox.

The call was quickly disconnected.

"Scarlett!" I shouted. I looked up at Beckett. "What do we do? We have to do something?"

The anger on Beckett's face over what I had done was gone as a new crisis had landed in our laps. It hardened into one of resolve.

"Ryan, get the carrier on the phone." She ordered. "Let them know that I'm about a minute away from getting a trace warrant on the following number 212-555-0179."

"Got it." Ryan responded after having written the number down.

Beckett pulled out her phone and dialled a number and started walking. I got up and quickly followed her.

"This is Detective Beckett." Beckett announced to the person who had answered the call. "Badge number 41319. I need to talk to Judge Beal right away."

As I watched Beckett swinging into action, some of my own guilt was lessened. I was still very worried about Scarlett and what Knox might do to her. He had already killed one person and it was not much of a stretch to think that he would kill her too.

XXX

Beckett, the boys and I were walking through a back alley of the hotel we had located. All four of us were wearing our vests. Beckett had her service weapon strapped to a holster on her thigh, Ryan had his gun drawn while Esposito had brought out the heavy artillery so to speak, a semi automatic assault rifle.

"Scarlett's phone was traced to the east side of the building." Esposito reports as he led the way through the alley to the back stairs. "Hotel manager said that a guy matching Knox's description checked in at room 4-F this morning."

I wont bore you with the details as to how we managed to trace Scarlett's current location. It is a book in itself, a boring book more than likely, unless you're a tech head.

The boys had quietly started up the back stairs. On reaching the bottom of the stairs Beckett suddenly stopped and turned to look at me.

"Castle, you're staying here." she said.

"No, I'm not." I told her earnestly.

There is no way in the world I was going to wait down here. Beckett must have seen the determination in my eyes because she did not argue with me.

"Okay, but stay behind me."

I nodded my head.

I followed Beckett up the stairs moving as quietly as possible. A pair of uniforms had trotted up behind us. Their guns were drawn.

Now some of you might be wondering why a TAC team was not leading this particular operation. As it happened there was not one available right at that moment and Beckett did not want to waste waiting for one to finally show up. There was a person's life possibly in danger, we could not wait.

We reached the fourth floor. A uniform took point and slowly set off down the hallway, Esposito was behind him with Ryan and then Beckett next with me bringing up the rear along with the other uniform. We turned the corner and Esposito motioned to the door marked 4-F slowly we gathered around it.

"Stop! No!" Scarlett's voice came from within the room.

Suddenly two shots rang out.

On a nod from Beckett, Esposito stepped up and kicked open the door. Police poured through the door.

"Police!" Beckett shouted.

All guns were pointed at a shaking Scarlett Price who was standing by a wall, holding a gun in her right hand. She was staring at the body of John Knox who was laying on the floor in the middle of the room.

"Over there. It's Knox." Beckett nodded to the boys. Then she turned to look at a frightened Scarlett. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay."

Beckett moved and took the gun from her shaking hand. Almost immediately everyone else in the place lowered their guns. Ryan and Esposito moved over to where Knox was laying and knelt on either side of him. A quick check for a pulse revealed there was not one.

"I killed him." Scarlett said in a shaky voice.

"It's okay." I told her. "You're okay."

"I killed Knox." Scarlett said. "He heard a noise outside and when he turned to look I grabbed his gun. He told me to give it back. He came after me. I told him to stop, but he wouldn't. Why wouldn't he stop? Why wouldn't he stop."

As Scarlett had been telling us what had happened she had sunk to the floor staring at the dead body and crying.

XXX

With the case closed there was nothing for Beckett to do other than the paperwork relating to the case an wait for the next case to land on her desk. All the same I showed up to the precinct the following day. I was not in the mood to stay at home. I had tried to so some work on the book I was working on but I ended up staring at the screen at the blinking cursor. I gave up and decided to head to the precinct.

Arriving at Beckett's desk, sure enough she was doing paperwork. I sat down in my chair and picked up a photograph of Scarlett that had been sitting on top of the file. I looked at the photo.

"You think she'll be okay?" I asked.

"Given the circumstances, I don't think the DA will press charges." Beckett replied.

"No. I mean, do you think _she'll _be okay?"

Beckett paused in her work and looked over to me. She saw the look on my face and then understood the meaning of the question I had asked.

"I don't know." she said after a moment. "Girls in the sex industry usually come from a history of childhood dysfunction. It's hard to escape that."

"But it's possible, right?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah." Beckett nodded her head.

There was a commotion in the hallway which drew out attention.

"Come on, come on." Norman Jessup said.

"Hold it right there." Officer Julian said, as he bailed up Jessup in the hallway.

"Castle! Little help?" Jessup called out to me.

"Oh yeah. Julian, it's fine, he's with me." I called out to officer Julian.

The uniform released Jessup from the hold he had gotten him in and stepped back.

"You are out of control, man." Jessup grouched as he moved away from the uniform. He walked up to Beckett's desk. "Got good news. I finally found a locksmith school that's willing to admit me." Jessup informed us.

"Really?" I said, with some surprise.

"Yeah. All I need is a letter of recommendation from the police, and I'm in." Jessup looked at Beckett with a hopeful expression on his face. "Will you write it for me?"

"No." Beckett said emphatically.

"What?" Jessup said.

"Come on, have a heart." I urged Beckett.

"He's a criminal." Beckett said. "If I write him a letter, I'll be responsible for him. I cannot watch you twenty four hours a day."

"Wait a minute. What did you say?" I said.

"I would be responsible for him." Beckett replied, looking at me curiously.

"No, no, no. You can't watch him." I said. I looked at Beckett. "When did you put the surveillance on Knox?"

"Right after we left the bar." Beckett informed me.

"And they followed him all night?"

"Yeah. He got home around 2am."

"Then how could he have beaten up Scarlett?" I questioned.

I suppose that was another reason why I had come into the precinct. Apart for my concern for Scarlett, something had been nagging me at the back of my head but it was something that I could not grasp, it was always just out of reach. That little something had just moved to the forefront and I grabbed it with both hands.

Jessup who had been standing at Beckett's desk had spotted the CSU photos of the door that had been kicked in to rescue Scarlett.

"You guys know that the dead bolt was not set when you guys kicked in the door, right?" Jessup pointed out.

"What?" Beckett said turning to look at Jessup.

"See." Jessup showed her the photos. "If it had been, this whole frame would've been destroyed."

"Locking the door. That's hostage-taking 101." I told Beckett.

Beckett turned to look at me.

"Unless Scarlett wasn't a hostage." she said.

"She was in on it from the start." I added.

"Buckley didn't set her up in his office out of the goodness of his heart. He needed somebody working there to man the call girl business." Beckett theorised.

"Not realising that he was giving Scarlett full access to every facet of his organisation." I said.

"Knox didn't steal his client list, Scarlett gave it to him so that the two of them could go into business together." Beckett said excitedly.

"And when Buckley wouldn't walk, Knox killed him, never thinking we'd find out about the call girl ring." I added with equal excitement.

"And then, when we did, Scarlett realised that the only way to save herself was by giving up Knox by playing the ultimate victim. Making you believe that Knox beat her up so that we'd think she killed him out of self defence.."

"And I fell for it." I said unhappily.

"We all did." Beckett said.

"I didn't." Jessup said happily.

I could have kicked myself. I had fallen for a pretty face. I had fallen for her story. She had played me for a fool and I had played right along. Beckett herself was a little angry too for having been fooled. And an angry Beckett is a dangerous animal as I have found out to my cost.

Beckett had tried calling Scarlett in the hope that she would come in but her phone had been disconnected. The next thing Beckett did was to send a unit over to Scarlett's apartment but that too had drawn a blank. She had left that very morning. Beckett put out an APB on Scarlett Price.

Then it was my turn to get into the game. I made a call to Paula and she gave me the name and number of a particular man in the publishing industry who was well known to use the services of call girls. Thanking Paula for the information, I called the guy up and eventually got the number for Scarlett Price out of him. At first the guy was not keen to give me the number but I managed to persuade him to give it to me.

With the number in hand I was all for calling Scarlett straight away but Beckett stopped me because the APB she had put out on Scarlett had born fruit rather rapidly. Apparently a unit had spotted her going into an uptown restaurant.

Beckett called to the boys and we all headed out for the restaurant.

Half an hour later we arrived at the restaurant. We remained at the front of the restaurant. Scarlett was not hard to spot. She was near the back sitting on her own, with her laptop open, a glass of red wine close at hand. She was speaking to someone on the phone, no doubt conducting business. Having finished her phone call Scarlett set her phone down and made an entry on her laptop. She then picked up her wine glass and took a sip of her wine.

"You're on Castle." Beckett said, nudging me. "Show time."

I took out my phone and dialled the number the guy in the publishing industry had given me. I put the phone to my ear and listened to it ringing and watched as Scarlett put her wine glass down and picked up her phone.

"Hi, how can I make you happy today?" Scarlett purred in greeting.

"Yes, I'm looking for a girl." I said in an even tone.

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place. Can you describe her?" Scarlett said.

On a silent nod from Beckett we all started moving through the restaurant towards Scarlett's table.

"She came to New York in an ancient blue Beetle." I said. "The floor was so rusted it literally sagged in the middle."

Scarlett stiffened when she recognised my voice, and if she didn't recognise my voice she certainly recognised me from what I had just said.

"Castle, how did you get this number?"

"I have a friend in the publishing industry." I replied.

"I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I...I just needed to take a few more jobs to set myself up."

"You never stop manipulating, do you Scarlett?" I told her. "I should be impressed, really. How easily you played me. But all I can think about is how sad it is. All that brains and beauty wasted on a heart gone rotten. You're so busy building up walls to keep people out..." I paused as we reached Scarlett's table. "...you don't even realise that you're the one trapped inside. All alone."

Scarlett turned around and was startled to find me standing there. Her shock deepened when she saw Beckett and the boys also standing there. Ryan moved up to the table. Esposito stood on the other side of her.

"Would you stand up, please?" Ryan said.

Scarlett slowly rose to her feet. She glared at me as Ryan snapped the handcuffs on her. The boys slowly escorted her out of the restaurant while reading her rights. I watched them depart.

"Thanks." I said in a low voice, glancing at Beckett.

"For what?" Beckett asked.

"For not saying, 'I told you so'."

Beckett turned to look at me. She gave me a half raised eyebrow and a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Oh, that starts tomorrow." She informed me.

XXX

Later that evening I was sitting at the kitchen counter reading a book I happen to find laying there. It was a rather interesting book because I quickly became engrossed in it because I did not hear my darling daughter sneak up on me and ambush me. She pounced on me with a big hug.

"What was that for?" I said happily.

"For being the best dad ever." Alexis informed me as she sat down beside me.

"It's true." I nodded. "I have the novelty mug to prove it."

"Mmm, thanks for trusting me." Alexis said. "For not pushing me when you knew I was working something out."

"Well, I knew when you were ready you would tell me."

I was not about to tell my darling daughter the concern and worry I had gone through when I had discovered that she was keeping something from me. That is part of being a Dad I guess, always worrying about their children no matter how young or old they are.

"So, here it is." Alexis declared.

I looked at her intently and waited.

"My school is starting a foreign exchange program to France." Alexis said.

"France?" I said.

"Yeah."

"You weren't kicked out of school?"

"Nnnno."

I could not help but let out a loud sigh of relief. My daughter would never know how relieved I was to hear what she had just said.

Alexis gave me a look before she resumed.

"No, the program lasts three weeks and so I'd miss your birthday. And I knew that Beckett had spent a semester abroad in college and I wanted to ask her if the experience was worth it."

"And what did she say?"

"She said that I'd be going off to college in a couple of years and that everything was going to change. And maybe it'd be good if we got a taste of that change now." Alexis said.

"Well, she is a smart woman." I said, with a small smile.

And she is a smart woman, a very smart woman. Over time I had turned to Beckett for advice about raising a teenage daughter. Leaving the joking and bantering aside she had helped with advice and suggestions and for that I will always be grateful.

"Yeah, she is." Alexis agreed. "But I decided not to go anyway. Because two years will be here soon enough. And I already got your present and I want to watch you open it."

Alexis then enveloped me in another hug.

"I say we celebrate with ice cream." I announced once we separated.

"We'd be fools not to." Alexis agreed.

"Serve me." I ordered.

Alexis went around the counter and into the kitchen, heading for the fridge.

"Chocolate or vanilla?" She laughed.

"Duh. Chocolate." I said.

I propped my elbow on the counter and rested my chin in my hand and watched as Alexis opened the fridge. Alexis pulled out a tub of chocolate ice cream and turned to look at me.

"Oh and while we're eating, we can talk about colleges." She said. "I picked up a couple of brochures at the guidance office, and you know what looks really cool?"

"What?"

"Oxford."

My chin almost hit the counter at what Alexis said. How I didn't hit my chin on the counter I will never know. I stared at my smiling daughter.

"Oxford? You know...You know that's in England, right?" I said in a shaky voice.

"Yeah." Alexis smiled.

I don't know which was worse having my darling daughter spend a couple of weeks in France on a foreign exchange program or go to college at Oxford. Actually, I did know which was worse. They both were! However as we hoved into our chocolate ice cream I fixed a smile to my face and listened to my darling daughter as she talked about Oxford University and the programs available there.

You might be wondering if Beckett did go to town with the ''I told you so's'. Well she did. As promised, the following morning when I went into the precinct and took up my usual station in my chair beside her desk, the 'I told you so's' came thick and fast for a couple of hours. Then she took pity on me and let the matter drop, thankfully, but not before I was squirming good and proper.

You might also be wondering if Beckett did write that letter of recommendation for Norman Jessup. At first she was adamant that she would not be writing any letter of recommendation but I managed to persuade her. I wore her down eventually, telling her that we 'wordsmiths' had to stick together. Before she agreed, I had also managed to extract a promise from Jessup to stay on the straight and narrow. Last I heard, he is doing well.

XXXXX

_**There you have the end of another case file. Let me know what you thought of the effort by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The Case Of One Man's Treasure

Part 1

It was one of those evenings where I was gripped by a bout of rampant boredom. I was up to date with my writing and I felt that Nikki and Rook could use a little break from me trying to manipulate their lives. There was no new murder case to concentrate my attention. A game of laser tag was out of the question because my darling daughter had gone to visit a friend for the evening. I could have watched a movie but I doubted it would have kept my attention for more than a few minutes and I did not want to read a book, because, again it would not have kept my attention for too long. Also I was not in the mood to play a video game. I was bored.

Then I found it. One of my cool toys. I had bought it not all that long ago. A radio controlled model helicopter. Actually, a top of the line radio controlled model helicopter. To be more specific, a top of the line radio controlled model Black Hawk helicopter.

I raced out of my office and set it down in the living room and powered it up. Soon I had it flying around the living room getting the hang of the controls and within a couple of minutes I was controlling it like an expert. I even opened the window in the living room and flew the helicopter out the window and had it moving about outside of the loft.

Apart from the radio controlled model helicopter I had gotten myself a radio headset. It was not long before my over active imagination began to provide a sound track to the flying model helicopter.

"Sector six maverick." I intoned in a Southern accented voice. "This is your captain up and on the mount."

The helicopter had been hovering outside the loft for a couple of minutes and I was slowly navigating it through the open window and back into the living room.

"Listen up, ladies and gentlemen, our fugitive has been on the run for ninety minutes. We're in the pipes. Let's keep our feet dry this time."

I was beginning to sound like Tommy Lee Jones in _US Marshals_. The helicopter moved about the living room and made its way in the direction of the kitchen area where Mother was seated at the counter. She was trying to concentrate on the script she had open in front of her.

"Jungle Radio. This is One Delta Bravo. Eyes on the suspect."

The helicopter was slowly approaching where Mother sat.

"Requesting back up over. Requesting permission to deploy laser activated radioactive immobiliser."

Mother had been trying to ignore me for some time but she could not do so any more especially with the helicopter rapidly invading her space.

"Permission denied." Mother snapped in frustration. "Really, Richard, I have all of these lines to learn before my play goes into rehearsal."

"I'm going in." I replied. Like the dutiful son that I was, I had ignore her plea.

I had the helicopter move to the kitchen counter and hover above it. Mother stared at the helicopter.

"If that comes any closer..." Mother warned, "...you're going to have _Black Hawk Down _on your hands."

At that moment I attempted a landing for my helicopter. It wasn't the smoothest of landings. The helicopter seemed to slam down on the table with a loud thump.

"Oh!" Mother exclaimed in outrage.

At that moment my darling daughter, Alexis returned from visiting her friend and came over to the kitchen and was surprised to find a radio controlled model helicopter had crash landed near where Mother was sitting and who was shooting daggers in my direction.

"What's all this?" Alexis asked with a look on her face that indicated she was already regretting having asked.

"Official police tactical training." I replied.

I had been standing in the living room when I was trying to land the helicopter keeping out of range of Mother's wrath but now that the chopper was down and my daughter was home I thought it was safe enough to venture closer.

"Oh, hey, Dad, did you get the chance to sign that permission slip I gave you the other day?" Alexis inquired.

I had removed the radio headset and put down the radio controller and then had gone into the kitchen.

"Haven't you learned to forge my signature yet?" I asked with a little surprise.

When I had been Alexis' age I was quite masterful in forging Mother's signature. I had managed to get away with it for a little while but Mother had found out, as mothers usually do, and for punishment I was forced to autograph a whole heap of her promotional photographs. I still have a couple of boxes of those photographs somewhere in storage, if you're interested in a thirty year old black and white photo of Martha Rogers.

"Credit cards, yes." Alexis said. "Permission slips, no. It's for my civics class. Every student has a three day volunteer internship at one of the city's agencies, law enforcement, sanitation, fire."

"I'll go with fire. They have the best calendars." Mother piped up, smiling.

"I went with law enforcement." Alexis said. "Detective Beckett already said it's cool if I volunteer down at the station."

I have admit I was a little bit surprised. I had vague recollections of my darling daughter mentioning something about a civics class internship and about wanting to do it down at the 12th. I was also a little pleased that Beckett was happy to help out my daughter.

"Oh, well, as a member of the NYPD volunteer squad, I would be happy to show you the ropes."

"Acutally, Detective Beckett is giving me my orientation course." Alexis informed me.

"Then I would be honoured to carpool with you or share a cab."

"Mmm." Alexis murmured.

Before further discussion could be conducted about this particular matter my phone started ringing. It was none other than Detective Beckett calling to inform me that a body had dropped and she was on her way to pick me up.

Half an hour later we were standing in the garbage room of an apartment building. A body was laying on a guerny. Dr Lanie Parish was standing on one side of the guerney and Beckett was standing on the other side. As for me I was standing a little distance away behind a wire fence with both my index fingers in my nostrils and trying to breath through my mouth.

The reason I was doing that was because of the smell that struck us the moment we had walked into the garbage room. It was an overpowering sickly sweet smell of putrification that was gag inducing.

"Prelim suggests victim died of a single gunshot wound to the chest at close range." Lanie announced, using her pen she pointed to the wound on the victim's chest.

"Any sign of struggle?" Beckett asked.

"Contusions coming up, here and here." Lanie replied. "But it's likely a result of his tumble down the garbage chute."

Beckett nodded her head in understanding. The guy had been shot somewhere on a floor above and his body had been shoved into the garbage chute and he had ended in the dumpster where we found him now.

I made a rather loud nasally sound which drew the attention of both Beckett and Lanie. They turned and stared at me.

"What?" I said in a nasally tone.

"What are you doing?" Beckett asked.

"Well, I can't breath through my nose." I informed her. "I happen to have a very acute sense of smell."

Beckett rolled her eyes at me in response.

"Suck it up, Castle. Real cops deal with worse."

"Yeah not to mention medical examiners." Lanie added. "Do you know long I have to shower before heading out on a date?"

I stared at Lanie. "No, but if you need someone to time it for you I'd be happy to..."

"Found it!" Ryan called out.

A moment later Ryan emerged from the dumpster where the body had landed. He burrowed down amongst all that muck and rubbish and found the missing wallet. He passed it over to Beckett.

"It must have fallen out of his jacket on the way down." Ryan suggested.

Beckett inspected the wallet.

"Yep, that's our guy." she announced. "Alright, the name is Sam Parker. And the driver's license has his address placed in Connecticut." Lanie noted down the victim's name on her clipboard. Beckett passed the wallet over to Lanie.

"Maybe he was visiting someone in the building." Ryan suggested.

"You mean dropping by?" I suggested.

Beckett turned to me and rolled her eyes. Though I dare say she will deny it, there was an amused grin on her lips.

Ryan's phone started ringing and he quickly answered it.

"Ryan...Thanks, bro." Ryan rang off and looked at Beckett. "Esposito's up on fifteen. Says he found out where our guy was shot."

"Alright, let's go." Beckett ordered.

I did not need to be told twice, I was more than happy to get out of the garbage room. Ryan was still wearing his NYPD jacket when he stepped into the elevator and he reeked from his very recent dumpster dive to find the victim's wallet. I started complaining though a certain female detective would have described it as whining. What ever it was the response was familiar. I was told to suck it up. I managed to hold my breath almost all the way up to the fifteenth floor.

We found Esposito at the end of the hallway in the area where the garbage chute was located. It was a small narrow room. As there was little room for all of us to crowd in Beckett and I stood in the doorway.

"From the blood splatter, our guy was shot here." Esposito reported as he pointed to the wall where there was a fair bit of blood decorating it. "Then he was shoved head first down the chute." Esposito lifted up the garbage chute door and then closed it.

"A killer who cleans up after himself." I remarked. "Very _American Psycho._"

"He probably wanted to get out of the building unnoticed. Figured the dumpster wouldn't be emptied for a couple of days." Beckett mused.

"He didn't count on a tenant on the seventh floor." Esposito said and then coughed the word 'Hottie' "Seeing the body drop as she threw out her pizza box."

On hearing the word 'hottie' my disposition suddenly brightened.

"Is she distraught? Because I can be very comforting." I offered.

"CSUs?" Beckett said in a voice that sounded unimpressed and judgemental all that the same time.

"Team's on its way." Esposito told her.

Ryan reached us. Beckett had tasked him with speaking to the neighbours nearest to this area.

"Neighbours didn't hear a shot." he reported.

"Ah." Esposito said as he moved over to a garbage bin and picked up a large plastic soda bottle. "Poor man's silencer. Must have picked it up from this pile here and then threw it back when he was done." Esposito passed the soda bottle to his partner to have it bagged and tagged.

"Resourceful." I said.

"How did a clean cut, suburban guy end up this far from home, dead and thrown out with the trash?" Beckett wondered aloud.

Beckett and I canvassed the neighbours on the fifteenth floor but there really was not much they could furnish us in the way of information. No one had heard or seen anything. I had suggested we speak to the witness down on the seventh floor because maybe she might have something further to add to the statement she had already given to the police. That hopeful suggestion was shot down in flames merely with a look from a very unimpressed Beckett. So alas, dear reader, I never met the hottie on the seventh floor.

XXX

The following morning Beckett and I were in the break room. I was standing by the coffee machine. For a change Beckett had agreed to let me make her a cappuccino. I was in full barista mode, foaming up the milk and pouring it into each waiting coffee cup. Beckett was standing close by with an expectant look on her face as she watched me do my magic. The item of discussion was my darling daughter's internship here at the precinct.

"Are you ready?" I said, looking around. Beckett gave me a nod of her head.

I picked up the cups and turned around handing Beckett her coffee.

"Here we go."

Beckett nodded her thanks and started walking out of the break room. I fell into step beside her.

"I know Alexis talked to you already." I said. "I just wanted to make sure that you're really okay with having her here."

"I wouldn't have said yes if I wasn't." Beckett replied.

"Well, yeah, but you're busy, and I just don't want her to be in the way."

"Big Castle is the one who likes to get in the way." Beckett said with a smile on her face. "I'm sure Little Castle will be a pleasure."

I rather liked Beckett calling me 'Big Castle' but this time I did not make a point of voicing that thought. I was also very pleased to hear that she thought my darling daughter would be a pleasure to have around.

We reached Beckett's desk and at that moment the boys walked up.

"Sam Parker, age 38. Lives in Connecticut with his wife Helen and two kids." Esposito informed us.

"Wife's en route to the morgue to ID the body." Ryan added.

"We contacted the leasing office, and they don't have a Sam Parker listed as tenant." Esposito said.

"So, he probably was visiting someone." Beckett said.

"Uniforms are canvassing. No hits yet." Ryan added. "CSU's working to untangle the prints, but it's a common room, there's dozens of them. However, the chute handle, doorknob and soda bottle were all wiped clean.

Beckett nodded her head.

"Alright, let's go visit the wife at the morgue." Beckett said looking at me. "Maybe she can tell us what he was doing in the city."

"And if she doesn't know, that tells us something to." I said.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan murmured and nodded his head.

Beckett gathered up her things and started moving off. I was still holding the cappuccino I had made and had yet to take a sip. I passed it over to Ryan who was more than grateful to accept it, and quickly dashed to catch up with Beckett.

"Fresh. And hot, and hot...hot." I heard Ryan say as he quickly set the cup down on Beckett's desk.

"He doesn't make me coffee." Esposito pouted.

XXX

Beckett and I had reached the morgue, on the ride over we had been discussing the case. My eagle eye attention did not fail to notice the closer we got to the morgue the little more quieter Beckett became. I ventured forth a couple of my less outlandish theories about who had killed Sam Parker. And, yes, they involved three letter government agencies. If I was trying to be outlandish I would have mentioned the other theories of mine, the ones involving aliens. My less outlandish theories only managed to get a small smile from Beckett.

We were walking along the corridor towards the autopsy room. I noticed the frown on Beckett's face so I had to ask.

"You okay?" I said.

Beckett looked at me and nodded quickly.

"This is never easy." Beckett said. "No matter how much experience you have."

I finally understood why Beckett had been a little subdued. The wife of the deceased had received 'the telephone call that changed everything' and now had come in to the identify the body. For a moment I had been a little concerned that my jokes were no longer tickling Beckett's funny bone.

Beckett reached the double doors of the autopsy room. I held the door open for her and followed her in. There was a woman standing at the autopsy table where the body of Sam Parker lay. The woman whom we came initially to know as Sarah Reed, was aged in her late twenties, with black slightly curly hair, certainly attractive. Currently she was sobbing over Sam Parker's body. I suspect she had identified the body.

"Oh my God." Sarah sobbed.

Beckett walked up to stand on the other side of the autopsy table and I joined her.

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I'm with the NYPD. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Do you have any idea who did this?" Sarah asked.

"We are doing everything we can to figure that out." Beckett assured the other woman.

It was at this moment when things went from sad and sombre, zoomed right past interesting, and went straight to Whisky Tango Foxtrot level, or in other words...'What the...?"

The door to the autopsy room opened and a morgue assistant entered the room. He was escorting another woman. She was crying and let out a gasp of shock when she saw the body on the table.

"Excuse me, we're in the middle of an identification." Beckett said frowning as she approached the morgue assistant.

"That's why she's here." The morgue assistant replied, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"And you are?" Beckett said to the woman who had just come in.

"I'm here to identify my husband." The woman who we came to know as Helen Parker said. She took a couple of steps towards and let out a loud gasp. "Oh my god."

"Excuse me? Your husband?" Beckett said, suddenly looking confused. She looked at the first woman. "What's your relation to the victim?"

"I'm his fiancée." Sarah Reed said.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Helen Parker demanded.

"I'm his fiancée." Sarah insisted.

A look of incomprehension appeared on Beckett's face as she turned to me. I must have looked just as confused as she was. The wife and the fiancée of our victim were getting ready to bear their claws. I cast a glance down at the body of Sam Parker fighting rather hard to keep the smile appearing from my face.

"Dude, you are so busted." I whispered to the body.

Sam Parker rather wisely remained silent.

The fun and games only got better moments later when Beckett was forced to intervene and keep the two women apart. Even I had to jump in and drag the bereaved wife away from the bereaved fiancée. Talk about your cat fight, all that was missing was a very large tub of Jello and popcorn.

XXX

As you can well imagine there was no way in the world the wife and the fiancée could be transported back to the precinct in the same car. Beckett certainly did not want the back of her Crown Vic turned into a battle ground so she did the next best thing, she called a couple of patrol cars to swing by the morgue and transport the wife and fiancée to the precinct. She specifically instructed the uniforms that the wife and the fiancée had to be kept apart.

Beckett and I were standing in the hallway talking in hushed tones. We had arrived back at the precinct about ten minutes after the wife and the fiancée. In the interview lounge was Sarah Reed. Across the hallway in the break room was Helen Parker. Sarah, the fiancée was quietly sobbing. Helen, the wife was quiet, subdued, staring off into space, trying to comprehend the enormity of the situation.

Captain Montgomery found us standing in the hallway. He walked up to us.

"Is that our vic's wife?" Captain Montgomery asked nodding in the direction of the interview lounge where Sarah was sitting.

"Fiancée." Beckett informed him as she tipped her head in the direction of the interview lounge.

"The wife is over there." I said, nodding in the direction of the break room.

Captain Montgomery looked at me a little confused.

"Excuse me?" He said.

"Fiancée." Beckett said tipping her head in the direction of of the interview room. I tipped my head also in the direction of the interview room.

"Mm-hmm." Captain Montgomery murmured.

"Wife." Beckett said motioning in the direction of the break room. Again I also tipped my head in the direction of the break room.

"Hmm." The Captain said. Suddenly he had to suppress a smile. "Oh boy."

"I know, isn't it delicious?" I said with a grin. I turned to look at Beckett. "Okay, who do we talk to first?"

"Hmm?" Beckett said as she nodded quickly in the direction of the interview lounge where Sarah Reed was sitting. I nodded my head.

"Okay." Beckett agreed.

Both Beckett and I nodded to Captain Montgomery as we moved off and made our way to the interview lounge.

Beckett opened the door to the interview lounge and walked in. I followed her and closed the door behind me. We came to stand a short distance from Sarah.

"I know this is difficult, Miss Reed, but if we could ask a few questions?" Beckett said.

Sarah wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded her consent.

"How long did you know, Mr Parker?" Beckett asked.

"Parker?" Sarah said, looking a little confused.

"Sam." Beckett added.

"His name was Jake. Jake Holland." Sarah said.

Beckett opened her portfolio and found a photocopy of Sam Parker's driver's license.

"According to his driver's license, it's Sam Parker." Beckett said, after consulting the photocopy.

"It was a lie? Even his name?" Sarah said, looking shocked.

"Where did the two of you meet?" Beckett asked.

"At work." Sarah replied. "A girlfriend of mine said there was this great guy in her department, and did I want to meet him."

"And where did you two last speak?" I asked.

"This afternoon." Sarah said. "He called to say he was on his way back to the city. His father is in a hospital upstate. He has late stage Alzheimer's, and Jake would drive up to see him every..." Sarah's voice trailed off and a look of realisation appeared on her face. "I'm so stupid. He was spending the weekends with his wife."

"So, you were intending to see him tonight?" Beckett asked.

"We were going to get takeout and watch a movie. A neighbour stopped me in the hallway and told me that the police had been there. But when I called, nobody could tell me anything...I...I...guess now I know why."

"Because we ID'd him as Sam Parker." Beckett confirmed.

"Somebody at the morgue confirmed that a body had been picked up at his address, so I went down there." Sarah said tearfully.

Sarah looked down at the ring that adorned her finger. A sad smile appeared on her face.

"When he proposed, I told my best friend, and she was all, 'You've only known him six months'. But I didn't care. He was the one. How could he do this?" Sarah said.

That was a question neither Beckett nor I could provide an answer for, at least not yet. Beckett did assure the woman that the police would do all they could to find out who had killed him. Sarah broke down again in tears. Beckett thanked her for her time but asked her to remain for a little while longer. Sarah agreed with a nod of her head.

Our next to stop was the break room where Helen Parker was sitting.

"This is insane." Helen Parker exclaimed. "Who is this woman?"

Beckett had mentioned to Helen Parker that Sarah had been engaged to Sam.

Helen turned to look at us, holding back a fresh wave of tears.

"Sam would never...He...He loved me." Helen insisted. "Our kids meant everything to him.

"Apparently there was more to it than just the affair, Mrs Parker." Beckett said.

"Your husband was using a false name at his job." I added.

"Well, I don't understand. Why would he do that?" Helen said looking confused.

"We're still trying to find that out." Beckett informed her. "But from what we understand, he met Miss Reed at his office."

"He started there about six months ago." Helen said. "He had been passed over for a promotion at his old firm. There are not a lot of opportunities in green solutions, so he took the job, even though it was in the city."

"Green solutions, as in environmentally conscious?" I asked.

Helen Parker nodded he head. A sad smile appeared on her face.

"He did corporate consulting. How to reduce waste, save energy. It was a passion of his." She said.

"It's very commendable." I said gently.

"Well, all that working and commuting were running him ragged." Helen said. "So he found a cheap sublet. It was hard, but if it all worked out, we were going to move down to the city so that we could all be together."

"Mrs Parker, did you have any idea that your husband was having an affair?" Beckett said carefully.

Helen Parker stared at Beckett for a couple of moments, almost glaring at her.

"I know what you're thinking." Helen said. "Why didn't I notice the signs? We had two children together. We do not have a nanny, so every second of every minute of my day is about my kids."

Helen looked from Beckett to me and back to Beckett before she spoke again.

"If there was an issue, I'd call Sam on his cell phone and he would always answer. I never, never thought I'd be sitting here justifying my marriage."

Beckett asked Helen Parker a few more questions and then wound up the interview. Helen Parker had been holding it together through most of the interview we had with her but then the tears started flowing. I passed across a box of tissues.

On a silent nod of from Beckett I took my leave and let Beckett handle this moment alone. I found my way to the bullpen and perched myself on Ryan's desk. The boys had heard about our dead guy having both a wife and a fiancée. Cops, whether they're lowly uniforms or captains, can be notorious gossips. And this was a juicy case. The boys had stopped their work and wanted me to spill.

While I was briefing the boys Beckett had the task of escorting the bereaved wife and bereaved fiancée out of the precinct without them crossing each other's path.

"With the wife, it was 'Only call my cell during the week' routine." I informed the boys. "With the fiancée, he pulled out the trusty 'I can't call you from the hospital' act."

"Man, my girlfriend freaks out if I don't check in, like, every hour." Ryan chuckled.

Esposito shot his partner a look. "You do check in, like, every hour." He said.

At that moment Ryan's cell phone chimed. Ryan reached for it and checked the message which had just come in.

"Sometimes more." Esposito added.

I tried very hard not to smile at that last observation.

"This guy had both of these women believing that they were his one and only." I remarked.

While I had been talking Beckett had quietly walked up behind me. She had seen off the wife and the fiancée and had come over. She had heard what I had told the boys.

"People believe what they want to believe." Beckett said.

"Till the dead truth sets in." Esposito remarked.

"What you think one of them caught on to what Sam was doing?" I asked.

"And didn't take too kindly when they discovered they weren't the only woman in his life." Ryan suggested.

"Mmm, I don't know." I said. I turned to look up at Beckett who was standing beside me. "They seemed pretty shocked to me."

"Yeah, me too," Beckett agreed. "But we've got to cover all our bases. Both of them had soft alibis. The wife said that she was watching TV while the kids were upstairs sleeping. And the fiancée said that she was home alone getting ready to meet him."

"We'll run phone and financials, see if anything pops." Ryan suggested.

"Thank you." Beckett replied.

She turned and started walking over to her desk. I rose from Ryan's desk and followed her. Nearing her desk Beckett paused and turned to look at me, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Do you think he would have gone through with it?" She asked.

"Through with what?" I asked.

"Marrying Sarah if he hadn't gotten killed."

"Well that was a pretty big rock he put on her finger." I remarked. "With the fake identity he had set up, the county clerk's office would never have flagged him for someone who was already married."

"Yeah." Beckett agreed. "But Sam was pretending to be Jake before Sarah. I don't understand the fake identity."

"Maybe to land the job?" I offered.

"I understand fibbing on your resume, but changing your identity. The math doesn't add up." Beckett frowned.

"You know what doesn't add up for me?" I asked her.

"Mmm?"

"Two wives."

"One wife too many for you?" Beckett said with a grin on her face.

"Two wives too many." I shot back.

"Seems like to common denominator in that equation is you." Beckett grinned even more as she pointed at me to emphasise her remark. Having made her point Beckett walked off.

I was left standing there looking a little flummoxed at what she had just said. Much to my chagrin I did not have a witty retort that I could fire back at her. I will concede she may have had a point. I had indeed been married and divorced twice already. I wont go into details about my marriages and divorces because this is not time or place for discussion about that topic. All I will say is that is there was fault on both sides.

There was not much I could do here at the precinct so I decided to call it a day and headed home.

XXXXX

_**There you have it the first instalment of the next Case File. Let me know what you think of this effort by dropping me a line. I'd like to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The Case of One Man's Treasure

Part 2

The following morning I got up early and made my darling daughter breakfast. That is not all unusual as I do make an effort to make her breakfast from time to time. This morning I made a point of getting up early, even setting my alarm clock to make sure.

It was Alexis' first day of her internship at the 12th precinct and I wanted her to go to work on a full stomach. With breakfast over Alexis went upstairs to get dressed and be ready for work. I cleaned up the breakfast things and then set about making her lunch. Again, it was not unusual for to make her lunch, though these days it was becoming a little rare. Alexis is more than capable of making her own lunch. As this was her first day at work, I thought it would be a nice gesture from her old man to make her lunch.

I had made Alexis a nice turkey wrap sandwich and popped it into the large brown paper lunch bag that was sitting on the kitchen counter. Then I turned and finished up making her a nice fruit salad snack. I heard my darling daughter come down the stairs.

"Good news." I called out to her. "I'm finally embracing the lecture you gave me on the importance of organic food."

Alexis had once sat me down not all that long ago and gave me a lecture about the importance of organic food compared to the stuff I usually liked eating. While I have not totally embraced it, I have embraced it enough when it comes to feeding my daughter.

"You made my lunch?" Alexis said sounding a little surprised.

"You think I'm going to let you risk your life on the vending machines and stale doughnuts of the break..."

I had picked up the container with the fruit salad and was about to place it in the lunch bag when I saw my daughter standing there. The sight of her had my voice trailing off. Mother was standing a little off to the side a big smile on her face.

"Wow." I managed to get out as I stared at my darling daughter.

"What?"

"You look all grown up."

"Really?"

"Really."

She really did look all grown up. She was dressed in a purple shirt with a black leather jacket and dark trousers. In all honesty she looked amazing. For a moment I was choked up at the sight.

"Well, Grams said presentation is vital." Alexis said a little nervously as she glanced at her beaming grandmother. Mother having the spotlight turned on her could not help herself, she smiled a little more and waved her hands in her granddaughter's direction. I have to admit Mother had outdone herself when it came to dressing Alexis for her first day at work.

"I forgot my phone." Alexis announced. She turned and raced back up the stairs.

Mother made her way to the kitchen counter. I smiled brightly as I put in the fruit salad into Alexis' lunch bag.

"That ever happen to you with me?" I asked. "One day you look, and you see your boy is all grown up?"

"I'm still waiting for that moment, actually." Mother replied in her best deadpan voice.

"I set you up for that, didn't I?" I said smiling.

Mother smiled brightly and nodded her head.

A few minutes later Alexis came down the stairs ready to go. I passed to her the lunch bag and then disappeared into my office to get my things. A moment or two later I emerged from the office. We both kissed Mother goodbye and headed out.

XXX

For the next part of the story I have to thank my darling daughter for her assistance.

Beckett was waiting for us at her desk. She greeted Alexis with a warm and welcoming smile and asked if Alexis was ready to go on the orientation tour. Alexis said that she was. The two women got up and I also rose to my feet ready to follow them. Alexis had me returning back to my seat when she said that she would be fine and did not need my supervision. Not even my best pout could convince them to change their minds.

Beckett took Alexis on a tour of the precinct and they ended up in the property room. It was a room whose shelves were crammed with boxes full of items that had not been claimed.

"Okay, this is the property room." Beckett announced. "It's where we keep all the items that we find at a crime scene that aren't classified as evidence."

"Sort of like a lost and found?" Alexis suggested.

"Um, sort of." Beckett agreed.

"Why don't the victims' families claim this stuff?" Alexis asked looking about her taking in the shelves.

"Well, loved ones are aware of the big ticket items, like ring and watches." Beckett said. "But things like sunglasses and lighters, those usually go unclaimed."

"Are these case numbers?" Alexis asked. She had moved to a near by shelf and was pointing a number written on the side of a box.

"Exactly, so the idea is to get rid of this stuff and stick it into storage." Beckett informed her. "But before we do that, we have to catalogue it, just in case someone comes in with a claim."

"Oaky, so you need a description of every item along with the corresponding case number downloaded into the database." Alexis said with a nod of her head.

"Mm-hmm. And I know that this isn't exactly what you were thinking when you asked to volunteer, but we're low on manpower and this would very helpful."

Alexis smiled as she she removed her jacket.

"Don't worry about it." Alexis assured her. "This place is going to be so organised, you wont even recognise it."

"I bet I wont." Beckett smiled and started to head for the door.

"Detective Beckett?" Alexis called out. Beckett paused and looked back at Alexis.

"I know my Dad can sometimes be a handful." Alexis said hesitantly. "And by sometimes, I mean all the time. But I want you to know you don't have to worry about me. I'm all about getting the job done."

Beckett gave Alexis a smile and a nod of her head before she headed out leaving Alexis to get down to it.

While Beckett was giving Alexis the orientation tour of the precinct, I was standing in the hallway near the elevator waiting for Beckett to return. I was eager to find out how it had gone with Alexis.

I must have been staring off into space while I was waiting because I was shaken from my day dreams by the sound of Captain Montgomery's voice greeting Beckett. I straightened up.

"Well?" I asked Beckett hopefully, as I joined Beckett and the Captain as they made their way along the hallway.

"Alexis?" Beckett said.

I nodded my head.

"She's fine."Beckett assured me.

I felt a little relieved to hear that Alexis was okay. I started smiling as I looked over to Captain Montgomery.

"You know, her first day at pre school, I hid outside in the bushes all day just to make sure she was all right." I told the captain.

"First time my son went to summer camp, I followed the bus all the way to the Adirondacks." Captain Montgomery said and then laughed. I too started laughing. It was one of those Dad moments that we shared. I understood him completely. I could see myself following a bus containing my daughter all the way to summer camp. No, wait! I did do that!

"You two are both either very sweet or very creepy." Beckett intoned as she brushed past us and headed for her desk. Captain Montgomery stopped laughing and went on his way. I too stopped laughing and followed Beckett top her desk a little surprised by what she had said. She gave me a small but gentle smile to show that she was only joking as we sat down in our chairs.

Ryan and Esposito came walking into the bullpen and approached Beckett's desk. Ryan was carrying a large box which he placed on Beckett's desk.

"Super let us into Sam Parker's apartment." Esposito informed us.

"Jake Holland's apartment." Ryan replied.

Esposito looked at his partner.

"Same guy, bro."

"Yeah, just trying to keep it straight for everybody."

Esposito glared at Ryan before he turned to look at Beckett and me. From out of the corner of my eye I could see Beckett looking down at her desk as a way of trying to keep a straight face at the Laurel and Hardy routine from the boys.

"Anyway," Esposito continued. "There was no signs of struggle, and Sam's bag was..."

"Jake's bag." Ryan interjected.

Ryan removed a large bag from the box he had been carrying and set it on the desk.

"Was still sitting by the front door from when he came home from visiting his family in Connecticut." Esposito finished.

"Which explains why we found the Sam Parker wallet on him when he was killed, as opposed to the one we found in his dresser." Ryan said as he picked up a wallet from the box.

"Jake Holland's wallet." I said.

"It's got his driver's license with his New York address, work ID, the whole shebang." Ryan added.

I watched as Ryan reached in to the box again and pulled out a large framed photograph of our victim and fiancée. My eyes lit up at the sight of the picture frame.

"Oh, please tell me that's the old double-sided picture frame gag." I said.

"Lovely fiancée which can be easily be swapped for..."

Ryan showed the side with the photo of our victim and his fiancée and then he turned the picture frame around and opened the back to reveal a photograph of our victim with his wife and children.

"...the wife and kids, should they ever visit Daddy in the big city." Ryan said with a grin on his face.

I must say I was a little impressed with Sam Parker, he had gone to a lot of trouble. I especially loved his double-sided picture frame gag.

"Big news is we found this sitting on the kitchen counter." Esposito said, holding up a cell phone. "There's a voice mail you're going to want to hear." He pressed the play button.

"_I'm not going to let you get away with this, you worthless piece of trash." _A deep male voice said angrily. _"if you don't call me back tonight, then my next call is to Helen."_

"Someone caught on to Sam's double life." I remarked.

"We ran the number." Ryan said. "Belongs to one Charles DePetro."

"DePetro?" Beckett said with a little surprise. "That's his wife's maiden name. It's hyphenated on her driver's license."

"Mm-hmm. Charlie is Helen's brother." Esposito confirmed.

Beckett turned to look at me.

"He found out what Sam was up to." Beckett said.

"And decided to take out the trash." I replied.

As jokes go, it was not exactly one of my best. I'd be the first to admit it. Beckett did not think much of the joke either. She rolled her eyes and shook her head leaving me in no doubt what she had thought of the joke.

Beckett turned to look at the boys and ordered them to bring in Charlie DePetro to answer some questions. The boys nodded in unison turned and headed out once more.

A couple of hours later Beckett and I were standing in the interrogation room. Sitting at the table was one Charles DePetro. He was aged in his mid to late thirties, of average height with a slim build and a balding head. There was a scowl on his face which I guess had a lot to do with the invitation he had been given to come in and have a little talk with Beckett and myself.

Another reason for the scowl on his face had to do with the playing of the recording of his voice mail message to Sam Parker.

"Mr DePetro, I can understand the instinct of protection." Beckett told him. She moved and sat down at the table opposite from DePetro.

"If I had a sister, and her husband was cheating on her, I'd want to set him straight." I added.

"That's not why I left the message." DePetro replied.

"Did you know Sam was cheating on Helen?" Beckett asked.

"Not until she called me last night and told me he'd been killed."

"Then what did you mean when you said, 'I wont let you get away with this?'" Beckett said.

"He owed me money." DePetro declared.

"So, Sam borrowed money from you?" I said with some surprise. I had been leaning against the two way mirror and chose that moment ease myself off it and walk over and sit down beside Beckett.

"Twenty G's." DePetro confirmed. "He needed it to cover the mortgage. They'd already borrowed against the equity in the house."

"And what was the arrangement?" Beckett asked.

"He said he needed a couple of months." DePetro said. "And when he started the new job in the city, I figured he'd be making more dough."

"Helen didn't know about this?"

"He didn't want her to worry. And as long as he paid me back, I said it be our secret."

"And did he pay you back?" I asked.

"Not a cent." DePetro said his face hardening. "He kept saying he was pulling in less money. I thought he was lying. Why take the job that far from home and force Helen to deal with the kids on her own? Comes out now, he wasn't doing it for his family. He wanted the freedom to cheat on my sister."

Beckett asked DePetro a few more questions concerning his whereabouts around the time of Sam Parker's murder. DePetro provided the necessary details of his alibi. He claimed that he was working late. Winding up the interview, Beckett informed DePetro that he would have to remain here until his alibi checked out.

Emerging from the interrogation room Beckett and I returned to the bullpen. Before going to her desk, Beckett made a detour over to Ryan's desk. She handed him the address of DePetro's place of work and ordered Ryan to check out the brother-in-law's alibi. Ryan said he would get on to it right away.

Beckett arrived at her desk to find me sitting in my chair. Beckett sat down and did some paperwork that had been awaiting her attention for some time. I spent the time either watching Beckett doing paperwork or playing on my phone.

An hour later Ryan arrived at Beckett's desk.

"Brother's alibi checked out." Ryan announced. "He was working late when Sam/Jake was shot."

Beckett nodded her head. "Any word on Parker's financials?"

"Yeah, they were a paycheck away from defaulting on their mortgage." Ryan reported.

I could not help but frown at that piece of news. I looked across to Beckett.

"You know, the brother said that Sam was pulling in less money at his new job." I said. "If Sam was strapped for cash, why would he quit the job he had to take one that paid less?"

"Didn't his wife say he was passed over for a promotion?" Ryan said. "Maybe it was a pride thing."

I looked up at Ryan. "Yeah, but factor in the sublet, not to mention gas, that's a high price to pay for pride." I suggested.

"Yeah, well, never underestimate the fragility of the male ego." Beckett said with a rather large smirk on her face which she covered by bringing her coffee mug up to her lips and taking a sip.

"Oh, see, that's just a stereotype..." Ryan countered.

"Don't, don't." I said, looking at Ryan. "That's...She is baiting us, alright?"

I turned and looked at Beckett.

"Just ignore her, and she'll lose her witchy powers." I joked, and looked away from her.

"You wish." Beckett retorted.

Beckett rose from her chair.

"Alright, let's go to Parker's office." Beckett said to me. She gathered up her things.

I quickly rose to my feet but noticed Beckett was looking about her as if she had lost something.

"Lose something?" I asked her, as I started looking as well.

"Um...Where...where...um...where's my broom?" She said as she slowly turned to look at me, fixing me with a look. Another smirk on her face.

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

"I was looking." I said.

"Yeah." Ryan said.

"Yeah?" Beckett said amused.

Beckett and I headed for the elevator.

"For the record, I did not." Ryan called after us.

Safely alone in the elevator heading down stairs, I took the opportunity to complement Beckett on her little joke. It brought forth a delightful smile on Beckett's face, one that I would never tire from seeing. Silently I offered up a prayer to the Universe, hoping that she never lost her witchy powers.

Sam Parker's place of work was the offices of New York Recycle. The exterior of the building looked like some glass fronted pyramid with some of the sides falling in on each other. It kind of reminded me of that glass pyramid found at the Louvre in Paris. The building looked a little out of place amongst all the other New York architecture.

The ground floor lobby was wide and spacious with a lot of glass frontage and walls. At the reception desk Beckett asked the receptionist to speak to the head of the company. A phone call and about five or so minutes later the head of the company, one Lance Carlberg came down to the ground floor to greet us. Carlberg was a tall slenderly built man with a bald head and a goatee beard. He was dressed in a casual business suit sans a tie. He was one of those CEOs of the generation who eschewed the old fuddy duddy style of suit and tie, preferring the neat casual look.

After the introductions were completed Beckett informed Carlberg the reasons for our visit. Carlberg escorted us up to his office. The CEO's office too was a wide spacious affair, all glass and green potted plants, and ergonomically designed furniture, modern and functional.

"I don't know. Maybe I should have seen it." Carlberg said unhappily as he made his way to his large desk. "His resume was almost too good to be true. Top of his class at Berkley, Stanford Business School. He must've really need this job to lie so bad."

"So there's no reason you can think of as to why he lied?" I asked.

"No." Carlberg said after he had sat down behind his desk.

"When you hired him, did you look into any of his references?" Beckett asked.

"Of course I did, Detective." Carlberg replied, sounding almost offended that Beckett would ask such a question. "I called them all myself. And I got nothing but glowing recommendations."

"For a guy who didn't exist." I quipped.

"I'd like to take a look at a copy of his resume, if you still have it." Beckett said.

Carlberg nodded his head. "I'll have Human Resources email it over to you." He said.

Beckett handed him her card.

"Uh, before we go, did you know that Mr Parker was romantically involved with one of your employees?" Beckett said.

Carlberg nodded his head again. "Sarah, yeah. She's one of my best engineers."

"Ever notice any dram there?" I asked. "Drunken fighting at an office party, that sort of thing?"

"No. Never." Carlberg replied. "They actually seemed like a pretty solid couple. And she must be going through hell right now."

Beckett wound up the interview with Lance Carlberg by thanking him for his time, and we headed out and back to the precinct.

XXX

Not long after our return to the precinct, Beckett received the copy of the resume she had requested from Carlberg. She printed up the names and numbers of the references that were listed. Beckett started calling the numbers. Each number that was called turned out to be disconnected. The boys and I gathered at her desk as Beckett dialled up the numbers again.

Calling up the last number, Beckett got the same out of service message she had received for all the other numbers called. Beckett hung up the phone.

"That's the last one." Beckett said.

"Every single reference he gave is suddenly out of service?" Esposito questioned, looking a little confused.

"When, according to his boss, they were all up and running six months ago?" Ryan added.

"So, who was answering the dummy lines?" I asked.

Beckett picked up the sheet of paper containing the telephone numbers.

"Let's get a warrant for all these numbers." She announced passing the paper across to Esposito. "I'd like to know who they were registered to."

"Okay." Esposito replied, glancing down at the list of telephone numbers. Both he and Ryan walked off.

"They must have amazing dental." I remarked.

XXX

While Beckett and I waited for the warrants to come through, Beckett informed she was going to go down and check on Alexis. This time there was no way Beckett was going to stop me from accompanying her. Thankfully Beckett made no move to keep me in the bullpen.

Reaching the property room Beckett and I entered and I saw my darling daughter placing a set of false teeth into an evidence bag. She was making a face as she did so.

"I don't know where you get this work ethic." I called out cheerfully as I approached. "But it certainly was not from me."

Alexis turned and greeted us with a welcoming smile.

"How's it going?" Beckett asked with a smile.

"Pretty good." Alexis replied as she glanced down at the desk she was standing in front of.

The desk was covered with numerous items, some in evidence bags others not. There were a couple of boxes on the desk as well.

"The computer was a little glitchy at first." Alexis said, motioning to the computer. "But that's because no one had run a software update in like, two years. Plus it picked up some viruses I had to zap."

"I am realising that you are way over-qualified for this job." Beckett remarked.

"Told you she was a smarty." I said proudly, glancing at Beckett.

"But I do have one question." Alexis said. "Like you said before, most of the items are pretty junky and meaningless." Alexis picked up a small photo album. "I did find this though."

Alexis handed the photo album to Beckett. Beckett opened the book and flipped through the pages of photographs.

"Oh! It's a brag book." I exclaimed. "So you can brag about your kids. I used to have one in my wallet. Now it's on my phone."

"Some of the pictures are really old. Like they're one of a kind." Alexis pointed out. "It seems like something worth returning, only it wasn't tagged or anything."

"Yeah, but the problem is, without a case number, it's difficult to find out who the victim was and how to get this back to the family." Beckett said.

"Okay, so then it goes into the storage box, right?" Alexis asked.

A small smile appeared on Beckett's face as and idea came to her. She handed the photo album back to Alexis.

"I'll tell you what." She said. "I'll give you a list of all the detectives who possibly worked this case. Show them the pictures, maybe it'll strike up a memory."

"Only, don't bother them if they seem busy." I pointed out to Alexis.

"You're one to talk." Beckett shot back.

Beckett's phone started ringing.

"Excuse me." She said as she moved away and answered the phone.

My attention was drawn to something on the desk and I reached for it.

"Mmm, what's this?" I asked.

Alexis reached out and grabbed my hand to stop me from picking up the item that had caught my attention.

"Dad." Alexis said in an admonishing tone of voice that I knew only too well. I quickly lost interest in that object on the desk.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Beckett said in to the phone and then rang off. She looked at me. "The fiancée's here. She wants to talk."

I nodded my head. I turned to Alexis and smiled at her.

"Have fun." I told her before I quickly moved to catch up to Beckett who was walking out of the property room.

XXX

Beckett and I found Sarah Reed waiting for us in the interview lounge.

"I knew she looked familiar at the morgue, but I couldn't place it at first." Sarah said when Beckett asked her what she was doing here.

"So, you're saying that last night wasn't the first time you had seen Helen Parker?" Beckett said.

"Well, there was something about the face. And then it hit me." Sarah said, looking at Beckett. "I had seen her in front of Jake's apartment a couple of weeks ago."

"Was she leaving the building?" I asked.

"No." Sarah shook her head. "She was sitting in her car across the street."

"And you're sure it was Helen Parker?" Beckett pressed.

"I'm sure of it now." Sarah insisted.

"A positive identification from all the way across the street in a car?" I queried.

"I made a note of it because the way she was staring at me was creepy. Like she was sizing me up."

"Miss Reed, the past couple of days have been overwhelming, to say the least." Beckett said gently.

"It's not uncommon for witnesses' memories to be confused after a traumatic event." I suggested.

"We just need to be absolutely sure." Beckett added.

"Look, I know what I saw." Sarah said trying to restrained her anger. "She was sitting in a silver hybrid staring at the front of the building."

Beckett nodded her head.

"And did you tell your fiancée about this?" she asked.

"No. At the time, I just dismissed it. But now...It makes me wonder if I'm the only person in the whole situation who didn't know what was really going on."

Beckett got a few more details from Sarah Reed before winding up the interview and then showed her out. I headed from the interview lounge and went to Beckett's desk sitting down in my chair and waited for Beckett to come back. When she did we discussed what Sarah Reed had just told us. Beckett and I looked at each other.

"Road trip." We said at the same time.

It was a moment of great minds thinking alike. The next moment Beckett was rising to her feet and snatching up the keys to her Crown Vic and both of us heading for the elevator.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts would be appreciated.**_

_**Con **_


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The Case of One Man's Treasure

Part 3

It took us a little over and hour or so to get to Connecticut and to Helen Parker's residence. On the ride out there I started fiddling with the radio in Beckett's car searching for a music station. I was not satisfied with each one I found so I switched the station and searched for another one. This went on for a little while with Beckett ignoring it as best she could. But even Beckett has her limits and it was reached, and quickly. Not happy with the latest music station I had found I started reaching for the button to change the station when Beckett warned me that she would do me considerable harm if my fingers touched the button.

My hand hovered near the button as I turned to look at her. Beckett sensing I was staring at her glanced at me. I was on the receiving end of a patterned Beckett Death Glare that left me in no doubt that harm would most definitely befall me if I disobeyed her. Wisely, I retracted my hand and left the station where it was.

A few minutes later I was gripped with a bout of boredom so I tried to get a game of 'I Spy' going. Beckett was not in the mood to play a game of 'I Spy'. Thankfully Beckett must have taken pity on me because she started discussing the case with me. We threw theories back and forth, some were plausible and a few outlandish. I offered up a couple of my usual theories that involved three letter government agencies which Beckett considered for all of about five seconds before dismissing them out of hand. Nothing we came up with really pointed us to who might have killed Sam Parker.

Beckett did tell me she did not think Helen Parker had killed her husband even though there was some evidence that pointed in her direction. I had to agree with her. My gut was telling me that Helen did not do it, and we both agreed that Helen did look genuine in her grief. Whatever our feelings might have been we both knew that we had to check this out if for nothing else than to eliminate Helen Parker as a suspect.

Helen Parker's house was a nice two storey suburban residence in the colonial style with a high roof, with a nice well maintained garden out the front. Beckett and I slowly approached the house. I noticed there were a few cars parked near the house.

"Silver hybrid." Beckett announced, pointing to the silver car parked in the drive way beside the house.

"I guess Helen did know about her husband's affair." I replied, a little unhappily.

"That would be a pretty strong motive." Beckett said.

I nodded my head in agreement.

We walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door was answered by a young woman neither Beckett and I recognised. Beckett produced her badge, identified ourselves and asked to see Helen Parker. The woman asked us in and led us to the living room leaving us to go and get Helen.

Helen emerged from the dining roof where some people had gathered, friends and relatives I surmised, here to provide comfort to Helen over the death of her husband. Helen Parker greeted us with a tearful smile. Her eyes were red rimmed from a recent bout of crying. She asked us to sit down and then offered us tea, and offer both Beckett and I politely accepted. The young woman who had answered the front door left the room and a couple of minutes later returned with the tea.

"You came all this way because she told you some crazy story about being parked outside the apartment?" Helen said with some surprise after the tea had been distributed. Beckett had informed the widow the reasons for our visit.

"Mrs Parker, we have to take every lead seriously." Beckett explained.

"Did you ever think that maybe she made this up to take attention off herself?" Helen retorted.

"She was very specific about your car." I pointed out.

"A silver hybrid?" Helen said. "That's...that's like saying somebody was wearing black shoes."

"That still doesn't answer the question." Beckett said.

"No. In the six months Sam had the apartment, I never went there." Helen said firmly.

"You never popped down just once for a date night?" I suggested. "I mean Connecticut is not that far a drive."

Helen looked at me and smiled sadly.

"Well, when you have two children under the age of ten, popping down for a date night midweek is nearly impossible. Sam came home every weekend, and I would see him then."

"Okay." Beckett nodded her head. "Well, we just needed to check. It's possible Miss Reed was mistaken."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe she was the one who was lying?" Helen countered.

"We're considering every scenario." Beckett replied.

"We got a lot of hang-ups last month." Helen informed us. "Do you think it's coincidence?"

"Did you tell Sam about it?" Beckett asked.

"I did." Helen nodded. "He said it was telemarketers, but it...it was her."

"How can you be sure?"

"I know she has our phone number. She's called since Sam was killed."

"Sarah called you?" I said with some surprise.

"She called about the funeral details." Helen said angrily. "Can you believe that? If she thinks she is going to show her face here, she is sadly mistaken."

"Was that the only time you heard from Sarah?" Beckett said.

"No. She...she called this morning and left some ridiculous message about getting things back from Sam that she had given him." Helen flashed with anger as she spoke. "And then on and on about some pen that had been her grandfather's. We were married for ten years and eight months. If she thinks that her six month affair can hold a candle to that...I'm not giving her anything."

The wave of anger passed and then another bout of tears threatened to spill from Helen's face. Beckett took that as our cue to leave. She set aside her untouched tea onto the coffee table and rose to her feet, thanking Helen for her time. She also repeated that the police had to check every lead. I too rose to my feet as well after having put down my cup of tea. Before departing from Helen's house we once again expressed our commiseration for her loss.

XXX

On the drive back to the city I found a particular radio station whose music I liked and left it at that. This action surprised Beckett no end. For a few miles as we drove down the highway from out of the corner of my eye I caught her casting glances in my direction half expecting me to reach out and change the radio station. That I did not want to change the radio station must have confused her. I like to do that sometimes.

We did discuss the case again adding into our thoughts the information that Helen Parker had told us. I was inclined to believe Helen when she had said that she had not popped down to the city for a date night midweek. Having raised a daughter practically single handedly I could relate to how difficult it could be to organise a night out. Beckett was inclined to go with what I had said.

Returning to the bullpen Beckett dropped her things onto her desk and collapsed onto her chair. I sat down in my chair feeling a little tired from the long drive.

"That was a long drive." I remarked. "I can see why Sam got an apartment in the city."

Esposito walked up to Beckett's desk. He had an open file in his hand.

"So, I did some background on Parker's job situation." Esposito announced. "Turns out his old employer, Connecticut Solutions, has been circling the drain. Over the past couple of years, they've lost half their market share to his new employer, New York Recycle."

Beckett looked at me. "Looks like Sam was abandoning a sinking ship." She remarked.

"To join the winning team." I added.

"Supposedly, New York Recycle came up with some new technology that turned out to be a game changer." Esposito continued. "Apparently, these two CEOs have been major rivals from day one."

"Like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs." I said. "Kobe and Le Bron...Jolie and Aniston..."

There was an amused look on Beckett's face as she looked at me. "We get the picture." She said. "Rivals."

"Yes." I agreed. "My point was maybe that's why Sam faked his resume. He didn't think that New York Recycle wouldn't hire him if they knew he was from Connecticut Solutions."

"Well, that makes sense." Beckett said.

"Thank you." I beamed.

A burst of laughter from Ryan, drew our attention. Ryan was standing at his desk on the phone.

"You're kidding me!" He all but shouted with a laugh. "Uh, thank you. You've been very helpful."

Ryan put the phone down picked up a sheet of paper that had been on his desk and excitedly came over to Beckett's desk.

"Hey, the warrants just came through on the numbers on Sam's resume." Ryan informed us. He passed the sheet of paper to Beckett. They were the telephone numbers that were on Sam Parker's resume. "His references' phone numbers, they're all billed and registered to Connecticut Solutions, his old firm."

That was cause for a little bit of surprise. Beckett's forehead furrowed into a frown as she turned to look at me.

"Okay, why would they set up dummy phone lines and give phony recommendations?" She asked.

My mind had been turning over the moment Ryan informed us about all the phone lines being registered to Connecticut Solutions and almost immediately I knew why. My face lit up as I looked across to Beckett.

"They wanted Sam to get hired." I declared.

The frown immediately vanished from Beckett's face as she jumped onto my train of thought.

"He wasn't passed over for promotion." She said. "He was planted at New York Recycle as a corporate spy."

This new revelation meant paying another visit to the offices of New York Recycle. I will be honest and say that I was not all that enthusiastic about another drive but Beckett was gripped with this sudden zeal to investigate this new lead that soon had me falling into step beside her as we headed to the elevator.

Lance Carlberg stood in the middle of his office with a look of disbelief plastered across his face when Beckett informed him that Sam Parker was a corporate spy. At first he did not want to believe it, shaking his head a few times.

"I'm sorry." Carlberg said shaking his head again as he turned to face us. "I'm just trying to get my head around this idea. I mean, this is the guy who organised the potato sack race at the Labour Day picnic."

"Well, there's considerable circumstantial evidence that he was planted here by his former employer. We just don't have the proof yet." Beckett informed him.

"Obviously, no one wants to get to the bottom of this more than I do." Carlberg stated. "So you'll have our complete co-operation."

Beckett nodded her thanks.

"What do you think Connecticut Solutions was after?" I asked Carlberg.

"Well, it's our battery recycling technology." Carlberg announced. He looked from me to Beckett before he spoke again. "I'm sure you both know you're not supposed to dump your batteries in with your trash. Now batteries need to be disposed of properly, or else the acids and heavy metals will leach out..."

"And get into the water table." I interjected.

"Exactly, yes." Carlberg nodded his head. "The problem is, storing battery sludge can be quite expensive. But we've figured out a way to actually recycle the stuff." There was a smile of pride on his face when he said that.

"So, when you bid on a contract to haul away old batteries, you can do it cheaper." I surmised.

"Which is why Connecticut solutions lost half its market share to you." Beckett added.

"Bottom line is they can't compete." Carlberg shrugged.

A thought occurred to me. I looked at Carlberg.

"Was Sarah Reed on the team of engineers that developed the technology?" I asked.

"Yeah. That's right." Carlberg nodded.

I turned to look at Beckett and found her looking at me, a look of curiosity on her face as if she was waiting to see where I was going with this. She did not have to wait long.

"That's probably why Sam Parker went out of his way to romance Sarah. For access." I suggested with a small smile. "It's pretty smart."

"Pardon me, don't you mean despicable?" Carlberg retorted, looking offended.

I turned to look at the CEO of New York Recycle. "The two aren't mutually exclusive." I told him."

"Would you mind if our forensic IT team took a look at Sarah's and Sam/Jake's as well?" Beckett asked, stepping in too cool down the sudden tension that had developed between myself and Carlberg.

"They should be able to tell us whether your security was compromised, and whether he got a hold of anything proprietary."

"Anything we can do to help." Carlberg replied.

Beckett thanked Carlberg and stepped away pulling out her phone and calling up the forensic IT team and ordering them down to New York Recycle to come and pick up the computers. While Beckett was on the phone I continued talking to Carlberg.

At first he was a touch resentful over what I said just a moment ago but I inquired about this new battery recycling technology that his company had. Carlberg quickly warmed to the subject. He lost me rather quickly when he started using jargon and technical terms that went over my head. I had done one term of chemistry back in high school before I had been kicked out. The only thing that interested me about chemistry was how to make things explode. I tried one experiment that was a little more powerful than I had expected and blew out a few windows of the science room.

Beckett finished off her call and joined us again. She had a few more questions for Carlberg which he was happy to answer and then wound up the interview. Carlberg offered to take us on a quick tour of the building, an offer which Beckett accepted.

A short while later Beckett and I having finished the tour were climbing down the stairs down to the lobby. She was on the phone having received a call. She rang off and looked at me.

"Forensic IT have taken possession of Sarah and Sam's computers." She informed me.

I nodded my head. I was a little surprised at how quickly the forensic IT guys had gotten here. Then again I should not have been. It must have been Nice Beckett on the phone to the IT guys. I could imagine those guys falling over themselves to get down here to take possession of the computers and assist Beckett in her investigation. At least that is what I thought but there was no way I was going to mention that to Beckett.

"You know, there's a lot of corporate secrets I can see sending a spy to steal." I told her, as another thought occurred to me. "But all this skulking around for some battery sludge?"

"Well, like the man said, it's a business like any other. But whoever runs Connecticut Solutions is going to have a lot of explaining to do." Beckett replied as we walked across the lobby to the exit.

I thought over what Beckett had just said that it being a business. It was indeed a game changer and whoever had the ability to recycle battery waste was in the box seat to make an enormous fortune. I could well understand why a competitor faced with losing market share to a long time rival who appeared to have found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, so to speak, would do almost anything to obtain the secret. Beckett was right, the CEO of Connecticut Solutions did have a lot of explaining to do.

We emerged from the building and started down the steps towards the street. We were half way down the stairs when we were stopped.

"Is it true?" Sarah Reed called out. She was standing at the top of the stairs staring down at us.

"Miss Reed?" Beckett replied.

"What they're saying, is it true?" She demanded, almost tearfully.

"Look, I can't go into details, but there's evidence that Jake was trying to steal information." Beckett informed her.

"Then it was all an act?"

"No, that...that doesn't mean he didn't care about you." I said gently.

"That's exactly what it means." Sarah scoffed. "He never loved me. He was just using me the whole time."

Sarah shook her head, trying to hold back the tears before she turned and rushed back into the building. Beckett turned to look at me but I could only shrug my shoulders and let out a sigh. Beckett nodded her head and resumed walking down the stairs with me following.

XXX

For the next part of this story I have to thank Detective Ryan.

Esposito and Ryan had gone to the IT lab where Sarah Reed's and Sam Parker's computers had been taken by the IT guys. There in a room with one of the forensic IT guys, a computer maharajah by the name of Vijay. Esposito and Ryan were standing on either side of Vijay's chair as they leaned towards the computer screen. Vijay was examining Sam Parker's computer.

"This guy was good." Vijay declared with a note of excitement and respect in his voice. "He was running a secret email client from inside a hidden partition in his hard drive."

"English." Esposito said. He nodded in the direction of Ryan. "For my partner here."

"He set things up so that he could send emails outside the company network in case anyone came snooping." Vijay reported.

"What kind of emails?" Esposito asked.

Vijay clicked on one of the emails and opened it up for Ryan and Esposito to see.

"I speak computer." Vijay said. "This, however, looks like chemistry."

"Was he communicating with anyone in particular?" Ryan asked him.

"Yeah." Vijay replied. "All these emails were to the same guy. Aberman ."

Ryan asked a few more questions and got more information about the emails. He also got a print out of the emails before they thanked Vijay for his help and high tailed it back to the precinct. On their return they did some more digging on aberman

An hour later both Esposito and Ryan approached Beckett and me with what they had managed to uncover. Esposito passed to Beckett a file with what they had found. Beckett opened the file and began skim through the information. I peeked over her shoulder and sped read.

"Andy Berman, he's the CEO of Connecticut Solutions." Esposito said.

"He must have been who Sam was reporting to." Beckett replied.

"They exchanged a bunch of emails a couple of months ago. Then nothing till the night Sam was killed." Ryan added.

"And what did that one say?" I asked.

"'Call me, we need to talk.'" Esposito replied.

Beckett closed the file and handed it back to Esposito.

"Bring him in." She ordered.

Both Esposito and Ryan nodded their heads and quickly headed out to do their boss' bidding.

An hour or so later Andy Berman was sitting in the interrogation room. Berman was aged in his mid thirties, a man of slender build with light brown wavy hair and wore a fashionable pair of horn rimmed glasses. The suit he was wearing was a business suit that must have come some from mid to upmarket menswear store and a light blue button down shirt. He was sitting on one side of the table and, as per usual Beckett and I were sitting across from him.

Berman did not seem too pleased to be in the interrogation room but that was something that could not be helped. As soon as Beckett had walked in and sat down at the table she hit him with the email correspondence he had been having with Sam Parker. Berman at first denied it. Beckett gave him one of her glares that had him quickly reconsidering his course of action.

"Okay, yes, it's true." Berman confessed. "Sam emailed me the other night, and I called him."

"From a payphone?" Beckett said.

"At a gas station near my house." Berman confirmed.

"Very cloak and dagger of you." I remarked, trying hard not to smirk.

Berman regarded me a moment before he turned his attention to Beckett.

"He said he needed to meet me in the city." Berman said. "He said he finally figured out how New York Recycle was pulling it off."

"So you admit that you planted him there to steal their battery technology?" Beckett pressed.

Berman regarded Beckett, it was almost as if he was considering his words carefully so as not to incriminate himself.

"They've been underbidding us left, right and centre, stealing our business." Berman explained. "Getting our hands on the on their recycling method was a way to level the playing field. They weren't going to share, so I offered Sam a million dollar payday if he could get a hold of it."

"And when he called and said he'd completed his mission, you rushed over." I said.

Berman glanced in my direction and allowed a small smile to appear on his face.

"The thing about Sam is he and I had been down this path before." Berman said slowly.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "He'd told you he found it before?"

Berman nodded his head and then explained that he had wasted hundreds of thousands of dollars on research and development on the information Sam had brought to him. The problem was that the information was incomplete. The chemical formulas Sam had brought to him were incomplete. His engineers tried to fill in the blanks and then test them but they failed every time. In the end he had ran out of money and a couple of months ago he told Sam he had to cut him loose.

"If Sam wasn't working for you, what was he calling you about?" Beckett asked.

"He said he needed to show me something." Berman replied.

"What?"

Berman shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I drove into the city to meet him at his apartment." He said. "But as I pulled up, there were cops all over the entrance. I got a bad feeling about it, so I turned around, and I drove home."

Beckett nodded her head as she took in Berman's explanation. Slowly she rose to her feet and began to walk around the desk. I watched with curiosity and listened as Beckett told Berman that it was a very interesting story he told us. But she had a different ending to it. An ending where he had gone upstairs to Sam's apartment and Sam had told him that he had finally found the real thing. An ending where Berman had thought to himself that his company did not have the million dollars to pay Sam.

I must say I was quite taken in by the story Beckett was unfolding. I struggled to contain the smile that threatened to break out across my face. I watched as Beckett came to a halt to the side of the table and leaned in close to Berman who was looking up at Beckett. She resumed her story by telling Berman he did the one thing he could. He killed Sam and stole the information that Sam had found, killing him in a desperate attempt to save his sinking ship.

I was very impressed with Beckett and I grinned up at her. Glancing at Berman I saw he was regarding Beckett carefully as well as silently for a few moments as if he was weighing up his current situation.

"I would like to call my lawyer now, please." Berman said, breaking the silence.

I found myself grinning up at Beckett once more. I was so proud of her.

Beckett and I emerged from the interrogation room a short while later leaving Berman in the care of a uniform so that he could organise a call to his lawyer. We headed for the bullpen. I was beaming with pride.

"It was pretty cool, the way you filled in the story back there." I said excitedly. "I think I must be rubbing off on you."

Beckett cast a glance in my direction. Realising what I had just said I made a face.

"That sounded dirtier than I meant it." I added hurriedly.

However, I was more than impressed with Beckett. When she spun that story for Berman back there in the interrogation room I was stunned. I did not think she had it in her. So, yeah I was very impressed with her. I could not help think that my storytelling skills were indeed rubbing off on her.

We were heading to Beckett's desk when Esposito called out and halted our walk.

"Yo, Beckett." He shouted. "Dispatch got a call out of Connecticut. New Haven PD have two women involved in an altercation."

"Speaking of dirty." I remarked as my face brightened.

"And the ladies in question are asking for you before they're taken in for booking." Ryan added unable to hide the grin on his face.

Beckett frowned at Esposito.

"For me? Why?" She said. Suddenly it dawned on her. "Oh no."

"Oh, yes." Ryan grinned even more. "They're holding Helen Parker for assault and Sarah Reed for trespass."

"A wife and fiancée cat fight." I said gleefully as I turned to look at Beckett. "Please tell me we can stop for popcorn on the way." I begged.

Beckett rolled her eyes at me before she turned and started heading out of the bullpen. Ryan motioned to me.

"Castle." He whispered and when he caught my attention, mouthed 'pictures' and motioned with his hands the action of holding a camera and taking pictures.

I nodded my head rapidly in agreement then gave the boys the thumbs up. I turned and rushed to catch up with Beckett.

XXX

On our ride out to Connecticut I could not help myself and started talking about the cat fight between Helen and Sarah and wondering aloud if it had been a real mean and dirty fight with claws bared and clothes ripped to shreds. It kind of led me off an a tangent and onto the subject of women mud fights, or my personal favourite jello fights, which I had attended once. I quickly deduced by the silence radiating from my left that I had an unreceptive audience. Wisely, I filed away the plethora of anecdotes I had at my command for some other time. Judging from the baleful look I received from Beckett I doubted if they would ever be pulled out again, well certainly never in her presence.

I ventured on to safer ground about what Beckett was going to do when we got to Helen's place. Beckett said she had no idea but would think of something depending on what we found. I could not help but wonder what Sarah had been doing at Helen's house in the first place.

Well we did not have to wonder for too long. On arrival at Helen Parker's house we soon found out.

Sitting out the front of the Parker house was a New Haven PD cruiser. Helen Parker was standing at the end of the driveway with a uniform. Getting out of the car Beckett and I slowly walked over to them. Beckett pulled out her badge and showed it to the uniform and introduced ourselves.

Helen stepped forward and immediate began to explain that she had caught Sarah trespassing. Beckett listened for a few moments before she suggested we go round the back where we had been told Sarah was being detained by the uniform's partner.

We reached the back yard and found Sarah standing with the uniform on the other side of a large garden table set. I had walked on with Helen who moved to stand directly opposite Sarah. Beckett had hung back to get a report from the police officer.

"Miss Reed was trespassing in the detached office." The officer informed Beckett, pointing to the detached office in question. "When Mrs Parker confronted her, an altercation ensued.

Beckett nodded her thanks to the officer and walked over to the garden table coming to standing between the two warring females. I took up station on the other side of the table across from Beckett.

"She tried to rip my purse off my arm, almost dislocated my shoulder." Sarah accused as she glared at Helen.

"Miss Reed, what were you doing in the Parker's office?" Beckett asked her.

"She wouldn't give me back my pen." Sarah replied.

"Your pen?" I said.

"My grandfather's fountain pen." Sarah explained. "I gave it to Jake."

"Sam! Helen shouted. "His name was Sam!"

"I gave it to him before I knew he was a lying sack." Sarah said angrily. "And she wouldn't give it back to me."

"I looked for it in the office. There was nothing." Helen retorted. She looked at Beckett. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"Oh really?" Sarah exclaimed. "Well, then, what do you call this?"

Sarah reached for her purse and opened it up. She dug her hand into it and a moment later she produced a black marble coloured fountain pen. An old model Parker Pen (no pun intended) from the looks of it, possibly a Duofold model, though I could not be sure from where I was standing.

"That was in the office?" I said to Sarah.

"Yes, right there in the drawer." Sarah shot back with growing anger. "How she could have missed it, I don't know. Unless of course, she was lying and never bothered to look."

"Miss Reed, I understand how you're feeling." Beckett said. "But breaking into someone's home..."

"No. This is my grandfather's pen. I would never have given it to Jake if I had known."

This was getting nowhere I noticed and I decided to play peacemaker.

"Ladies, I'm wondering if maybe we can put this whole nasty episode behind us?" I suggested as I looked from Sarah to Helen.

"She broke into my house." Helen said angrily. "Who knows what else she stole?"

Well there was one thing I would never need to put on my bucket list: Work for the United Nations as a peace broker.

Beckett looked over to Sarah.

"Do you mind if I take a look at the purse?" Beckett said.

"Not at all." Sarah replied readily, motioning to the bag sitting on the table.

Beckett quickly rummaged through Sarah's purse but found nothing and pushed the purse closer to Sarah.

Sarah looked across the table to Helen.

"Happy now?" She challenged.

"Is everyone okay?" Beckett said looking from one woman to the other. "Can we all just walk away?"

"If I ever catch your face around here..." Helen warned angrily.

"For crying out loud, give it a rest." Sarah shouted. "No wonder the guy had an ulcer. I would too, if I was married to you."

"An ulcer?" Helen shouted back. "What are you talking about. You crazy lunatic?"

"Don't call me crazy..!" Sarah retorted.

"Look! Look! Hello, ladies!" Beckett shouted trying to get the women's attention and not doing a good job of it.

I supposed Beckett wouldn't get a job at the UN either.

"LOOK!" Beckett shouted angrily at the top of her voice.

The bickering shouting match between Helen and Sarah stopped instantly. Silence descended over us. Perhaps Beckett could do well at the UN, I thought.

Beckett looked from woman to the other fixing them with one of her patented glares.

"I understand that you're both feeling betrayed, but taking it out on each other isn't going to help." Beckett told them firmly. "So, you can both press charges and make a bad thing worse."

Beckett paused a moment and glared at both women.

"Or you can calm down and walk away."

Helen and Sarah silently glared at each other, neither of them speaking. Neither of them wanting to back down.

"Option number two is a limited time offer." Beckett added a moment later.

Helen was the first to blink, so to speak. She gave a curt nod of her head. Sarah did the same a moment later.

Beckett would definitely do well if she ever got a gig at the UN.

I watched as Beckett motioned to the uniform standing near Sarah to escort her out of the Parker back yard. Both women glared at each other one more time but remained silent, not wanting to tempt the Wrath of Beckett. When Sarah had been escorted off the property Helen turned and walked back into the house. I turned to look at Beckett.

"That went well, don't you think?" I quipped.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. She left the back yard and strode to her car. I was right behind her.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts?**_

_**Con **_


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The Case of One's Man Treasure

Part 4

Alexis and I shared a cab to the precinct the following morning. Over breakfast and on the ride into work Alexis had told me a little bit about what she had been doing in the Property Room. I have to confess that I found it remarkable that my darling daughter found it exciting doing what I felt was a boring job. All the same I was happy for her.

We were walking through the hallway when Alexis came to a halt.

"Love you." Alexis said before she turned and headed in the direction of the property room.

"See you." I called out to her.

Turning around I was about to walk into the bullpen. I spotted Beckett standing by the murder board studying it carefully. I frowned a little as I propelled myself towards her.

"Please tell you me you did not sleep in the break room again." I told her as I sat down in my chair.

Coming back from Helen Parker's house in Connecticut last night Beckett had dropped me off at the loft and had mentioned that she was going to stop by the precinct to take care of a couple of things. I tried to convince her to go straight home but Beckett had told me that she would not be at the precinct too long. I was concerned that once she got to the precinct she would get caught up in the case and end up spending the night there. There had been more than a few occasions when she had spent the night at the precinct while working a case, grabbing a couple of hours sleep on the couch in the break room.

"I went home." Beckett assured me as she moved away from the murder board and perched herself on the edge of her desk looking at the murder board.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about that cat fight last night." She added.

"Ooh. Would you think less of me if I said, 'Me too?'" I replied.

"I kept thinking that, that was long way for Sarah to go just to pick up a pen." Beckett said. "And that whole thing with the ulcers was..."

"Oh, I know." I interjected. "That was a great _Desperate Housewives_ moment, the way Sarah just rubbed Helen's face in it."

"The thing is, there was nothing about an ulcer in Lanie's autopsy report." Beckett reached over and picked up a file which she passed to me. It was the autopsy report. "Sam had a clean bill of health."

I quickly perused the autopsy report in my hand and rose to from my chair and followed Beckett around her desk.

"Then what was Sarah talking about?" I asked, a confused look appearing on my face.

"The boys are looking into it right now." Beckett informed me. "But according to Sam's date book, he had doctor's appointments every Tuesday for the last three weeks."

"Well, if he was being a hypochondriac about it, they would have told him right away he didn't have an ulcer." I pointed out.

"So, what was he doing every Tuesday at 1pm?"

I turned to look at Beckett with a grin and held up my crossed fingers.

"Another woman." I said hopefully.

Beckett looked at me and rolled her eyes.

Beckett was spared from making a remark to my suggestion with the arrival of Esposito and Ryan.

"So, the doctor's office has no patient records for Sam Parker or Jake Holland." Esposito announced.

"Car service Sam was using confirmed that he gave the doctor's office as his destination when was scheduling the cars." Ryan added.

As Ryan was speaking a young woman, one of the civilian admin people came walking up to Ryan and passed to him a file.

"Oh, thanks, Elise." He told the young woman accepting the file from her, and then resumed his report. "Sam changed the destination once they picked him up."

He passed the file over to Beckett who opened it up and perused it. I leaned over to take a look at it too.

"First week, he headed out to this residential address out in Long Island." Ryan said. "The next week he drove up to New York Recycle's processing plant up in Paramus. And then last week, he hit the port out in Newark."

"Sam wouldn't have wanted Sarah to get onto his 007 routine, so maybe he was slipping away to do his spying." Esposito suggested.

Beckett looked up from the file she was reading.

"At some house in Long Island?" she questioned.

I looked at Beckett again with a grin. "So, another woman?" I suggested, again.

"She and Sam were taking long romantic walks at Port Newark." Beckett said sarcastically and punctuated it with an amused smirk.

"Why you gotta ruin the dream?" I countered unhappily.

I looked to the boys for support. Ryan grinned and shrugged his shoulders while Esposito just shook his head. I was not sure if it was in support of me or Beckett.

"Listen, Sam was changing his destination last minute with the car service because he was trying to hide something." Beckett stated. "So, let's look in the addresses and see why he felt the need to give Sarah a cover story." Beckett closed the file in her hand and gave it back to Ryan.

The boys nodded their heads acknowledging her order and walked off to get the information that Beckett had wanted. Beckett herself, having issued her orders, immediately walked off leaving me to stand there by myself. I returned to my chair and sat myself down. I focused my attention to the murder board.

XXX

A couple of hours later I emerged from the break room carrying with me two cups. One was a coffee and the other was a hot cocoa. I went in search of my darling daughter. She was due a break and I thought it would be a nice gesture to bring her a cup of hot cocoa. I was walking in the hallway heading for the property room when I spotted her talking to Detective Rankin. Rankin was one of the veterans of the 12th precinct. He had been here more years than most could remember. He was a nice guy.

Alexis had a file that she was showing Detective Rankin. I decided to wait until they had finished talking before I interrupted. Detective Rankin slowly shook his head apologetically and then moved off. I quickly made my appearance.

"State law requires a ten minute break every five hours." I informed my darling daughter. Five hours may not have elapsed in order for Alexis to take her break but I didn't think anyone was going to say anything.

"Thanks, Dad." Alexis said as she accepted the cup of hot cocoa. "I needed this."

We made our way to the break room.

"So, how goes your property room sleuthing?" I inquired.

"Not amazing." Alexis said unhappily.

"Oh, no." I replied. "What happened to that list of detectives Beckett gave you?"

"I just hit my last dead end."

"Well, what's important is, that you tried." I consoled her.

We sat down at one of the tables in the break room.

"I know. I just really wanted to get those pictures back to the victim's family." Alexis said. "I mean, I'd want them if they were pictures that you carried around."

I could not help but love and admire my darling daughter in that moment. I understood what she meant and I was proud of her for wanting to return those photographs to the victim's family. Yet at the same time I was a little concerned by what she had also said.

"If you are imagining a scenario where I am no longer here, and watching over your every move, and protecting you from every danger, I can assure you that will never happen." I told her.

"I'm just saying that I think it's important." Alexis replied.

"No, you're right." I agreed. "But remember, there's a reason why a lot of this stuff goes unclaimed."

Alexis nodded her head. "I guess I just need to focus on cataloguing for the rest of my time here." She said.

"And before you know it, you'll be retired from law enforcement and back in the 11th grade." I said with a small smile.

I noticed the thoughtful look on my darling daughter's face as she considered about what I had said. Suddenly her face brightened with a smile.

"Thanks, Dad." She announced.

"For what?" I said, looking a little confused. "You're welcome."

"You just gave me a new lead." Alexis informed me. She reached out and patted my face before she turned and rushed out of the break room.

"So, I'll finish your cocoa." I said.

Having finished my cup of coffee I then finished Alexis' cocoa. I washed the cups out and then headed back to the bullpen. I found Beckett standing by the murder board and that's where I joined her, taking a position on the other end of the board.

"Two relationships." Beckett remarked. "Can you imagine the stress of trying to pull that off?"

"Yes." I replied quickly. A little too quickly.

Beckett shot me a look.

"Uh, from a literary point of view." I added hurriedly.

The stress of two failed marriages still traumatised me from time to time but I was not about to mention that to Beckett.

Esposito and Ryan reached us and Ryan cleared his throat catching our attention. Both Beckett and I turned to look at the boys.

"Hey, what did you find?" Beckett asked.

"Well, we canvassed using a picture." Ryan said. "We came up with a longshoreman in Port Newark who remembered Sam. Apparently, he'd been asking about shipping manifests."

"Sounds random." I remarked.

"The longshoreman couldn't help him, so Sam moved on." Esposito added.

"What about the address from the first Tuesday?" Beckett asked.

Ryan grinned. "Oh, here is where it gets good." He said. "The Long Island address is the residence of a single mother, Laura Branston, and her six year old daughter."

I looked at Beckett. "I told you. It was another woman. Our love triangle just became a love square." I declared.

"Nope. Still a triangle." Ryan said, smiling. "Different name."

He passed to Beckett a sheet of paper. "But that's..."

"The fiancée, Sarah Reed." Beckett announced.

Beckett turned the sheet around to show me. I looked at the copy of the DMV license that Beckett was holding. The hair style was different and in the photo she was wearing glasses but it was unmistakeably Sarah Reed.

""Well, it looks like Sam was not the only one hiding his identity." I remarked.

Beckett nodded her head in agreement. She looked at the boys.

"Bring Sarah Reed in." She said.

"You mean, Laura Branston?" Ryan grinned. I guess he thought he could try that routine again, the had played on his partner the other day.

Beckett shot him one of her glares that immediately wiped the grin from his face and had him quickly making a bee line for the elevator and his partner trying to suppress the laughter that threatened to break out. I guess Beckett did not feel like playing the straight man to Ryan. When the boys had high tailed it out of the bullpen I caught sight of a small grin on Beckett's face as she turned her attention back to the murder board. I guess she already had a straight man gig.

XXX

A couple of hours later Beckett and I walked into the interrogation room where Laura/Sarah had been sitting for a little while after having been brought in by Esposito and Ryan. Beckett walked to the table and sat down across from Laura while I wandered across the room to the wall just behind Laura.

"The engagement ring, the relationship . We know they were all fake." Beckett announced.

Laura looked unperturbed by the accusation Beckett had thrown at her. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Love is a hard thing to disprove, Detective Beckett." Laura replied.

Sarah Reed might have been the jilted fiancee angry at discovering that the man she was going to marry already had a wife and family but Laura, the woman sitting opposite Beckett, was totally different. Confident and assured of herself.

Beckett opened her portfolio and removed several sheets of paper and placed them in front of Laura one at a time.

"This is a copy of your real driver's license, and this is your Social Security card. And this is the employment record from New York Recycle under assumed identity." Beckett said.

"Nothing like a fresh start." Laura replied airily.

"We did a little digging." I said. "Turns out, New York Recycle isn't the first company you've worked for under a new identity."

While the boys were out bringing in Laura Beckett and I had done some digging into Laura's background and it was quite interesting what we had found.

"A girl's got to make a living." Laura said.

"Here's what I'm thinking." Beckett said. "Lance Carlberg figured out that Sam was a spy. He contacted you, an expert in corporate espionage, and asked you to intercept him."

"I was just doing my job. Leading a man on isn't a crime, is it, Detective?"

"Should be." I muttered. I could not help myself, it just came out.

"I'm not looking into the leading on part." Beckett said, ignoring my remark. "I'm looking into a murder. And you had access to Sam's apartment. And you were hired to take care of him."

"I was hired to get in his way." Laura stated. "It was supposed to look like I had access to classified information, so when I struck up a flirtation, he thought the relationship would give him the access he needed."

"Once you had the relationship, what was the plan?" Beckett asked.

"I just had to leave my laptop lying around his apartment once or twice." Laura informed us. "My keycard ended up on his laundry one weekend."

Laura paused and smirked as she looked over to Beckett.

"Men think they're smart. The trick is to keep letting them think it."

Beckett cast a look in my direction and saw the look on my face. Quickly she turned her gaze back to Laura. I wont say what I was thinking at that very moment because they weren't nice thoughts.

"Um...so, what was on the computer?" Beckett asked.

"Lance was feeding Sam these partial chemical formulas. He thought it would keep Connecticut Solutions going in circles."

"Why not just fire him?" I suggested.

"Why not kill two birds with one stone?" Laura shot back. "Keep the enemy close and run Connecticut Solutions into the ground."

"And what makes you think that Sam was falling for your routine?" I said as I eased off the wall I had been leaning against and made my way to Beckett's side of the table.

"Well, I wondered at first, because he wouldn't sleep with me. And then I realised that he was being faithful to his wife, so I pretended to buy his whole 'I'm old fashioned' routine. He thought he was playing me."

"He was." Beckett informed her. She picked up the file from her portfolio, opened it and held it up. "This is Sam's autopsy report."

"Hmm. Sam didn't have an ulcer." I remarked.

"He was seeing a doctor for it." Laura said.

"No. That was just a story." I said as I looked at Laura, a smirk on my face. "He made you."

"No way." Laura scoffed. "I would've been able to tell."

"Oh, I hate to burst this little _Alias_ bubble you got going on, but Sam found your house in Long Island. He knew you were more than just a flirty engineer."

I was more than pleased to see the smug, confident look on Laura's face start to slip. She looked surprised at what I had just told her.

"He played along not arouse suspicion." Beckett said picking up where I had left off. "But I think you already knew that. You knew that he made you, and that he found the secret method. And that's why you killed him."

The look of surprise faded from Laura's face faded away and the smug, confident look returned. A small smile rose to her lips as she stared at Beckett.

"I think that sounds like a great _Spy versus Spy _story, but there is one problem." Laura said. "the night Sam was killed, I was at my daughter's recital, and there about twenty other parents that can vouch for that."

Neither Beckett and I expected that little twist that Laura threw that at us. Beckett covered her thoughts behind a mask. She took down Laura's statement, especially the details of where Laura's daughter's recital was held and who to contact.

A short while later Beckett and I emerged from the interrogation room and headed for the bullpen.

"I like her." I remarked. Beckett shot me a quizzical look.

"For the murder." I added quickly. "See that crazy look in her eye? That's crazy killer look."

"Yo," Esposito called out. "Sarah's alibi checked out. Dance teacher puts her in the front row at the time of the murder."

Esposito and Ryan had been in the Observation room watching Beckett and I question Laura. As soon as they had the name of the dance teacher they had gone off and called the dance teacher who now confirmed Laura's alibi.

I was not happy about this.

"She's still got crazy eyes." I affirmed.

We came to stand in front of the murder board. Beckett stared at it.

"He never loved her, she never loved him, and they both thought that they were playing each other." Beckett remarked.

"Which doesn't explain who killed him." Ryan remarked.

"We're missing something." Beckett mused.

"The pen." I declared. "If Sarah's relationship with Sam was fake..."

"Then why did she give him her grandfather's special pen?" Beckett replied finishing my sentence.

"And what was Sarah really looking for in Sam's office last night?" I added.

All very good questions but standing in front of the murder board was not going to provide us with the answers. Beckett and I looked at each other and came to the realisation that another field trip was in order.

Beckett turned away from the murder board and scooped up her car keys from her desk. She then started walking out of the bullpen. I fell into step beside her. A visit to Helen Parker's house was our next port of call.

Helen Parker was not surprised when we arrived on her doorstep at this late hour. The reason being Beckett had called her on the way out to Connecticut and the reason for the unexpected visit. Helen was happy to let us search Sam's office.

We had been searching the office for about ten minutes when Beckett shoved some books back on the shelf she had been searching and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Nothing. This doesn't make any sense." She said.

I was making my way over to Sam's desk and sat down and started to think.

"We went through Sarah's purse. If there was something in it, we would have found it." Beckett bent down and started searching the cupboard underneath the shelf. When I did not respond to what she had said Beckett turned around and saw me in deep thought.

"Castle, what are you doing?"

"I'm writing a scene." I replied.

I'm sure that remark must have earned me a Beckett eye roll. Slowly I came out of my deep thought.

"Let's say that Sarah found what she was looking for." I said slowly, dropping into storyteller mode.

"She had it in her hand." I continued holding up one of my gloved hands. "That's when she would've heard Helen coming out of the house. She would have had to have gotten rid of whatever it was that she found."

"Great." Beckett replied. "You want to write the part where we find it?"

"So Helen would never know." I murmured.

My mind was telling me that what ever Sarah had found that it must have been on paper. How did one get rid of paper quickly? The answer came to me a moment later and I began to look around the office. Just behind the desk I found what I was looking for. A paper shredder. I rose from the chair to pick up the paper shredder and set it on the table.

"Ah, what do you know?" I said. I picked up a sheet of paper and found the machine was still switched on.

"Power mode is still on." I remarked as I watched shredded paper fall in to the catcher.

Beckett came over to the desk. We both stared down into the clear plastic catcher and saw what were strips of what might have been photographs. I looked up at Beckett.

"We're going to need some tape." I remarked.

Beckett struggled not to grin at my discovery but a small one broke across her face. I got the distinct impression that Beckett was rather pleased with my discovery.

XXX

The following morning I was sitting with Beckett at her desk. Captain Montgomery was standing by her desk. We were filling him in on what we had discovered the night before in Sam Parker's office. Ryan and Esposito came over with the now reconstituted photographs. Beckett and I after leaving Helen's house had gone straight to CSU to get them to glue the shredded pieces together.

The tech guys on duty at that hour of the night were less than thrilled to be given a jigsaw puzzle job at that late hour. They were backed up with a heap of other work that was needed urgently before they could think of getting round to putting the jigsaw puzzle together, or so we were told.

It had to take a few flashes of the Beckett smile, some 'pretty pleases' and the offer to provide a week's supply of doughnuts for the entire CSU from yours truly before the techs agreed to do a rush job on putting the photos back together and have it ready for us the following morning.

"These are the pics that our vic took while he was supposedly at the doctor." Esposito announced as he passed over the photographs.

"According to New York Recycle, they ship their battery sludge up to the recycling plant in Paramus." Ryan added.

"You don't need a boat to get to Paramus." I remarked.

"Secret method, my ass." Captain Montgomery growled as he looked at the photographs. "They were switching labels and dumping it."

This piece of information had both Beckett and myself rising out of our chairs and moving across to the murder board. The boys also came over. Beckett and I began to build theory based on the new information we had discovered. Who stood to make the most money from all of this? Or who was making the most money by undercutting a rival competitor? And who would not want that particular secret to be revealed to the world at large and would do almost anything to make sure that secret remained just that, a secret?

With a grin on my face I pointed to a certain individual, a certain CEO of New York Recycle. Beckett grinned back and nodded her head. A moment later she turned to Ryan and Esposito, who had remained silent while Beckett and I were building theory.

"Bring him in." Beckett snapped.

The boys jumped at her order and were quickly heading out. Beckett left the murder board and went to her desk and picked up her phone. She put in a request for some uniforms to conduct a search around Lance Carlberg's apartment building and immediate area.

"He might not be as smart as he thinks he is." Beckett replied in answer to my question. "He might have dumped the gun he used to kill Sam Parker close to home."

I nodded my head and silently hoped she was right.

XXX

It was late in the afternoon before Beckett and I walked into the interrogation room where Lance Carlberg had been waiting for quite some time. He was mightily annoyed at the long wait he had been forced to endure. Beckett apologised to him for the long wait. She remained standing on her side of the table while I sat down and placed the bulging file that I had brought in with me on the table.

"That Sam was quite the Erin Brockovich, wasn't he?" I said.

"There was no secret method to battery recycling." Beckett said. "You shipped the sludge out on cargo barges and dumped it in the ocean."

There was a confident, almost bored look on Carlberg's face as we spun our story.

"The money you saved on storage and processing, you just put it in your own pocket instead." I added.

Carlberg looked at me with a contemptuous expression on his face before he turned to look up at Beckett.

"Listen." He said. "I know my rights. And I don't have to say anything."

I almost admired this show of bravado. I said, almost. He had no idea what was going to fall on his from a great height.

Beckett put her hands on the table and leaned towards Carlberg and stared at him.

"You sold a bill of goods to your customers. You promised them that they were going to help save the world. Instead, you poisoned it for money." Beckett told him.

"What happened, Carlberg? Sam confront you? Threaten to ruin you?" I pressed.

"I didn't kill anyone." He retorted. He looked up at Beckett with a confident look. "And you have no proof."

Oh, you poor bastard, I thought to myself. Wait for it...

"Actually, I do." Beckett replied to his challenge, a smile gracing her face.

I slowly pushed the file I had brought with me across to Beckett. She opened it and extracted a large evidence bag which contained a revolver. She placed the gun in front of Carlberg. The confident on Carlberg's face vanished. He stared down at the gun and swallowed rather noticeably.

"We ran ballistics." Beckett informed him. "It's a match."

"We found it in the dumpster outside your apartment building. Had you recycled, you might have gotten away with it." I said, unable to hide the smirk on my face.

A scared look appeared on Carlberg's face as he stared down at the evidence against him. He wasted little time in asking for a lawyer. Even with a lawyer present it did not take Beckett too long to get the full story out of Carlberg.

I was sitting in my chair by Beckett's desk when she returned after having booked Carlberg for the murder of Sam Parker. She sat down and commenced to finish the paperwork relating to the case we had just wrapped up. I offered to take down the murder board and put the stuff into a box but Beckett told me that I could go home, I had done enough work for one day.

I was not going to argue with her. I headed off home.

XXX

The next morning I arrived a little earlier than normal to the precinct. It was Alexis' last day of her internship and she wanted to put in a full day's work before she left, so hence the earlier than normal arrival. I saw her off to the property room then turned and made my way into the bullpen and over to Beckett's desk. I did not even get the chance to sit down.

Beckett greeted me with a smile as she rose to her feet and grabbed her purse and coat.

"Where are you off to?" I inquired.

"Going to see Helen Parker, let her know what had happened."

I nodded my head.

"Would you like some company?" I asked

Beckett smiled at me. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Helen Parker looked more than a little surprised to find us standing on her doorstep again when she opened her front door. She invited us into the living room. We declined the offer of tea or to sit down. Beckett broke the news to her that the police had arrested and charged Lance Carlberg for the murder of her husband.

The news was both a surprise and a relief to Helen, not mention it brought a few tears.

"That night your husband was murdered, he went back to his office to grab the last few pieces of evidence he had collected. And by then Carlberg had already become suspicious." Beckett informed Helen.

"When he realised that your husband was contacting his old boss for help in exposing his company, Carlberg attempted to buy his silence. But Sam wouldn't accept the bribe." I added.

"Of course not. Not Sam." Helen said with a tearful but proud smile.

"You said the environment was the most important thing to your husband." Beckett said. "Well, he died trying to save it. And we thought that you should know."

"Thank you." Helen said tearfully.

XXX

Later that day after our return back to the precinct I came walking into the bullpen with a copy of the New York Ledger. I made a bee line for Beckett's desk.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey."

"Check it out."

I showed Beckett the front page of the New York Ledger. There was a photo of Lance Carlberg. Above the photo was the headline: 'CEO Charged With Murder.' There was a proud smile on Beckett's face as she looked at the front page.

"The EPA is shutting down New York Recycle." I added.

Beckett put the newspaper down to answer her desk phone which started ringing.

"Beckett." A frown appeared on her face. "Anna Knowles? No, I don't know any Anna Knowles."

"I do." Alexis interjected. She had just arrived at Beckett's desk. I noticed she was holding the photo brag book that she had found in the property room.

Beckett looked up at Alexis a moment. "Uh, yeah. Send her up." Beckett informed the caller.

"So, who's Anna Knowles?" I inquired.

"The pictures I found belonged to her mother." Alexis explained. She handed over the photo book to Beckett who went through the pages slowly.

"Really? How did you track them down?" Beckett asked.

"It was something you said, Dad." Alexis said looking at me with a smile. "About me retiring from law enforcement. It got me to thinking, what if the officer who had originally worked the case retired?"

"Nice work." Beckett said looking up at Alexis. "I'm very impressed you were able to close this case."

And I have to say that Beckett did look impressed with my darling daughter's efforts. Needless to say I was overwhelmed with fatherly pride towards Alexis.

"Thank you." Alexis said, smiling shyly. "I mean, I know it's not like the important stuff you do. But I..."

"You know, when a person loses someone...this is important." Beckett said.

I saw the veil of sadness flicker in Beckett's eyes as she spoke to Alexis and knew that she was not spouting some platitude to make my daughter feel better. Beckett knew from personal experience that mementos like old photographs were important, very important. To the rest of us they may appear like silly little moments in a person's life but to a loved one they are important vignettes, they told a story of a life that had been cut short. I gazed at Beckett and wondered what mementos or keepsakes she had of her own mother.

I heard the bell announcing the arrival of the elevator and I looked beyond Beckett's shoulder to a nervous looking young woman who had stepped out of the elevator. The young woman looked about her not knowing where to go.

"I bet that's her." I said motioning in the direction of the elevator.

Both Beckett and Alexis looked in the direction of the hallway where Anna Knowles was standing.

Beckett looked at the photo book in her hands and reached a decision. She held it up to Alexis.

"You know, maybe you should talk to her." Beckett said.

Alexis was a little surprised but she took the book back and smiled a little.

"Thanks." She said in a low voice, then moved quickly through the bullpen and into the hallway where Anna was standing.

Beckett and I watched as Alexis spoke to Anna and then handed over the photo book to her. Anna looked very emotional at being given a book containing valuable family photographs. I could not help but smile.

"She's a chip off the old block." I remarked proudly.

Beckett shot me a doubtful look as well as a roll of her eyes as she turned and got up from her desk to head for the break room. I continued to gaze at my darling daughter, feeling so proud of her and wondering how I got so lucky to have a daughter like her.

XXXXX

_**There you go, the end of another Case File. Let me know what you thought of this effort by dropping me a line. I'd love to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

The Case of The Fifth Bullet

Part 1

It must be a horrible thing to lose your memory. All that you've known gone in the blink of an eye, with only a blank in your head. To see people you've known all your life and not know them. To hear them tell of things you shared with them and have not a single recollection must be very scary.

This was a case where I met a man who faced that very thing. Losing his memory. Luckily for him he did not face it alone.

I had spent the day at home working and it was mid to late evening when I emerged from my office when I had decided I had done enough writing for one day. I had finished another chapter of the book I was writing as well as outlining a couple more so I was feeling rather pleased with myself. Mother and Alexis were out for the evening. Alexis was staying over at a friend's place to do some studying and Mother was out on the town doing, well doing things I'd rather not know about, to be honest with you.

Left to my own devices thanks to the abandonment of my family I decided to watch a movie marathon. I made a huge bowl of popcorn before I faced my first dilemma. I did not know what kind of movie marathon to watch. I was tossing between a festival of Tarrantino movies or Star Wars and really could not make up my mind. When I was nearing a decision my telephone rang.

The call was from police dispatch informing me that there was a murder case which Detective Beckett had caught and did I want in? Silly question. Tarantino and the Star Wars crew would have to wait for some other time. I could not get out of the loft fast enough.

The the murder was in my part of town so it didn't take long to get to the scene of the crime. On getting out of the cab that delivered me to the scene I found that I had beaten Beckett here. I could have gone in but I chose to remain outside and await Beckett's arrival. Normally when I got a scene on my own I will go in and see what is going on. This time I decided to wait outside.

Standing on the side walk my attention was drawn to this cute brown retriever tied up to a bike wrack out the front of the building where the murder had taken place. The dog was looking a little down in the dumps having been left there on the street by its master. I went over and made friends with the dog. The attention I gave was returned enthusiastically by the dog. I was kneeling down petting the animal and having my face licked in return.

This was the way Beckett found me when she pulled up in her car.

"On one knee?" Beckett remarked as she got out of her car.

"That's a good girl." I said. To the dog, not Beckett. I think she would have shot me on the spot if I had said that to her.

"What's up Castle? You proposing?"

There was an amused look on Beckett's face. With her arrival I reluctantly stopped playing with the dog and rose to my feet.

"Oh, no. Just waiting for you." I informed her.

"That's too bad. You two make a cute couple." Beckett remarked.

"Yeah." I replied. We both started walking to the entrance of the art gallery where the murder had taken place. "Hey, you think I should get a dog?"

"What am I, your wife?" Beckett shot back.

"Yeah, you're my work wife." I told her in all seriousness.

Beckett gave me one of her looks.

"No, I'm not your work wife." Beckett told me in a firm tone of voice.

She was so my work wife but I was not about to push the matter any further. Rather than risk physical harm at the hands of Beckett I chose to change the subject.

"I could get a bloodhound." I suggested excitedly. "I could name him Sherlock, and then I could...I could bring him to crime scenes."

"No, you couldn't." Beckett said crisply.

We entered the art gallery and were pointed up the stairs by a uniform who was stationed at the foot of the stairs. Beckett and I started up the stairs.

"Oh, what? It be adorable." I said. "I could get him to wear a little Sherlock hat, train him how to carry a little magnifying glass."

Beckett paused on the stairs and shot me one of her looks. She then resumed walking up the stairs.

"Oh, see. Right there. Disapproving, judgemental. You're totally my work wife." I called out to her.

Okay, so I did push the matter a little more. You will notice that I pushed the matter a little further only when she was out of range.

My attention was drawn to the blood splatter on the wall.

"The blood's bold, but it works." I remarked.

"Not sure he'd agree." Beckett replied.

Beckett had reached the top of the stairs and was looking down at the body. I climbed up the rest of the stairs. The body was laying face down on the floor. There was a large pool of blood underneath the body as well as blood splatter on the small wall next to the body.

"Hmm. Well, obviously he was into art." I said.

Esposito came up to us.

"Victor Fink, 43, gallery owner." He informed us. "There's no sign of forced entry. Tenants upstairs called in gunshots to 911 at 10:14pm."

Beckett nodded her head. "Any idea what he was doing here so late?" She asked.

"No, but according to his assistant, Darius Langley," Esposito motion in the direction of a young man unshaved with long black hair and wearing glasses who was talking to a uniform. "They close at eight. As far as he can tell, there's nothing missing off the walls or from the back."

While Esposito had been giving us his initial report I surveyed the gallery. My attention was drawn to the security camera anchored to the ceiling.

"Anything off those security cameras?" I asked, motioning up to the camera in the ceiling.

"Fake." Esposito said with a shrug. "they're not even hooked up."

"Lucky break for the guy." Beckett remarked.

"Unless he knew. Just like he knew Fink was working late." I pointed out.

"Or made plans to meet him here." Beckett countered. "Check with the assistant."

Esposito nodded his head.

"He had some fight in him." Lanie remarked as she came to join us. "Abrasions on the forearms, on the hands."

"And then he made a run for the stairs." Beckett said.

"Only to be shot in the back." I added.

"Twice, 9 millimeter. Shooter fired from over there." Lanie pointed the area where the killer must have been standing when he had shot Fink. There were a number of those little yellow plastic number labels noting where the shell casings of the bullets had landed.

Beckett and I started walking to where the shell casings had landed.

"It is possible he might have been meeting somebody?" Esposito asked the assistant Darius.

"Well, if he was meeting someone, he didn't tell me." Darius replied.

"Excuse me for a minute." Beckett said to Lanie and walked over to where Esposito was standing with Darius Langley.

"He'd already left by the time I locked up at eight." Darius informed Esposito.

"Mr Langley? I'm Detective Kate Beckett." Kate announced. The two shook hands. "How long have you been Mr Fink's assistant?"

"Two months." Darius replied. "I'm an art student. I take night classes at Tisch."

"Is that where you were last night?" Beckett asked.

Darius nodded his head. "Yeah. Mr Fink totally supported me being in school, he'd let me leave early to make classes. That's where I was when you guys called."

"Do you know if Mr Fink had any enemies? Any unhappy clients or artists?" Beckett questioned.

Darius shook his head slowly. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Darius replied. "I could get you a contact list, if you like?"

"Yes, please." Beckett said.

"Okay."

Beckett stepped up to Esposito and looked at some notes that Esposito had made in his note book.

At that moment Ryan came over to them.

"Hey. We got a little problem." He announced.

Beckett look around to Ryan.

"We dug these two slugs from out of the wall." Ryan held up an evidence bag which contained two slightly misshapen bullets for Beckett to inspect.

"They're not very fragmented." Beckett observed. "See if ballistics can run a match on any other shootings in the city."

"Sure, but that's not the problem." Ryan said. "We dug these two out of the wall and Dr Parish has another two in our vic here."

"So our perp's not a sharpshooter." Esposito told his partner.

"But we've only found four bullets and there are..." Ryan turned and pointed to the marked shell casings on the floor and counted. "One, two, three, four, five shell casings on the ground."

"There's no blood trail leading out of here." I pointed out.

"Exactly." Ryan agreed. "And not a drop of blood outside of the splatter from our vic here."

"So, there's no second victim." Beckett said.

My face lit up with some excitement as I realised there was a mystery here.

"So, where's the the fifth bullet?" I said.

It was a good question that I posed but sadly one that we could find no answer to. The CSU people at the scene searched high and low all over the gallery but came up with nothing. The fifth bullet was nowhere to be found. Beckett had gone back to Lanie and got from the medical examiner a few more details before she allowed for the body to be removed from the crime scene. Beckett and I spent a couple more hours at the crime scene before we called in a night. Actually it was rather early in the morning.

Leaving the art gallery Beckett gave me a ride back to the loft.

XXX

The following morning I found myself in the bullpen sitting in my chair beside Beckett's desk. I had been giving considerable thought to what might have happened to the now missing fifth bullet. From the moment I had jumped out of bed all manner of theories were going around in my head and I could not wait to get to the precinct to try them on Beckett.

Beckett was on the phone when I tried another theory of mine. Beckett had dismissed out of hand the few that had thrown out already but I was undeterred. This new one was quite a good one. At least I thought it was pretty good.

"The bullet was made of ice." I declared, looking at Beckett.

"Okay. Great. Yeah, send her up." Beckett said to the person on the other end of the phone. She turned to look at me. "The vic's wife is on her way up."

"Fires the bullet, it melts before we can find it." I added.

Beckett let out a sigh as she rose to her feet and gathered her empty coffee mug. She started to head for the break room to replenish her coffee mug. I too got to my feet and followed her eager to pursue this ice bullet theory I had developed.

"An ice bullet! Hello? An ice bullet?" I said to Beckett who was purposely trying her best to ignore me as I dogged her heels. "Are you even paying attention to me?"

"No! You aren't even saying anything worth paying attention to." Beckett retorted.

In the hallway Beckett and I were waylaid by Esposito and Ryan.

"Yo. Uniforms are still canvassing, but so far they still haven't found any blood trails outside the gallery." Esposito informed us.

"And CSU's re-swept the scene twice. No sign of the fifth bullet." Ryan added.

"I'm telling you. Ice bullet." I said to Beckett as I walked around her back.

"Nah, bro. An ice bullet would still make a bullet hole." Esposito pointed out.

"You mean, ice hole?" Ryan corrected his partner.

"What did you just call me?" I said to Ryan with a small grin.

Ryan realised what he had just said and could not help but smile. Beckett was not in the mood to play teacher and referee a school yard altercation rolled her eyes.

"Guys." She said. "What else?"

"We checked Fink's cell phone records." Esposito reported. "He got a call at 9:19pm, an hour before he was killed, from a blocked cell phone number."

"Phone records indicate that the call originated in New York, but it was an international cell, satellite phone, registered to Bahrain Cellular." Ryan added.

"Well, good luck with getting a warrant from the Government of Bahrain." I remarked.

"Run down Fink's client and artist list. See if any of them had international numbers." Beckett ordered the boys. Then she looked at Ryan and pointed to him. "Watch your mouth." she added.

A startled look appeared on Ryan's face at being warned by 'Mom'. He turned and followed his partner down the hallway both of them started grinning. I tried not to look too smug at Ryan having being told off for having said what he said to me. Beckett and I made our way to the break room to get a cup of coffee.

For the next part of the story I have to thank the potty mouth Detective Ryan.

Ryan was about to enter the bullpen when Officer Marino called out to him.

"Hey, Ryan. Got a sec?" Officer Marino called out.

Ryan turned and found Officer Marino standing by the elevator. Standing with him was a tall man aged in his early thirties with light brown hair and a confused look on his face.

"Witness?" Ryan asked Marino.

"Not exactly." Marino replied. He looked at the man. "Hang here buddy, okay?"

The anxious looking man nodded his head. The man we came to know as Jeremy Prestwick.

"Of course." Jeremy said.

Marino walked over to where Ryan was standing.

"I found him on the canvas, by the art gallery. I mean the , the guy's got no wallet, no ID." Marino reported.

"Okay, did you ask him his name?" Ryan asked.

Officer Marino gave Ryan a look.

"Yeah, I asked him his name, I asked him where he lived. You know." Marino replied. "But, here's the funny part. The guy says he don't remember."

Ryan thanked Marino for bringing the guy in and then walked over to Jeremy and introduced himself.

XXX

Victor Fink's widow, Angelica arrived and Beckett and I escorted her into the interview lounge. Angelica was aged in her late twenties and was rather tearful as you can well imagine. After all she had just lost her husband in the most tragic of circumstances. One thing I did notice was that Angelica was rather well endowed in the 'assets' department. I tried very hard not to stare at her as as she paced the floor.

"Did my husband have enemies?" Angelica replied in answer to Beckett's question. "Yeah, he had enemies."

Angelica strode over to the trash can and deposited the damp tissue and then she walked back to her chair but remained standing. I held up a tissue box for her. She took one of the tissues from the box.

"Every artist who couldn't get in his gallery, and every artist who was in his gallery." Angelica informed us. "He'd sell, like five pieces, and they'd want to know why he didn't sell six."

"Mrs Fink, I know you're upset." Beckett said.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with these, huh?"

Angelica grabbed and hefted up her assets. I could not help it but my eyes were drawn to them. From out of the corner of my eye I did see Beckett look in my direction and roll her eyes. I managed to drag my eyes off Angelica's assets and up to her face as she sat down in the chair.

"I didn't want them." She said. "I did them for him, and now he's dead." Angelica dabbed her tissue at her nose.

"Mrs Fink, can you think of anyone who would hate your husband enough to shoot him in cold blood in the back?" I asked gently. Angelica turned to look at me.

"Rocco." she said simply.

"Rocco? Was that one of the artists?" Beckett asked.

"His assistant." Angelica replied.

"I thought Darius was his assistant." I said.

"His old assistant." Angelica clarified. "Victor fired Rocco months ago."

"Why?" Beckett asked.

"He fired that little insect over money." Angelica informed us. "And, boy, did Rocco go crazy, making all kinds of threats. 'I'm gonna get you, Fink.' But you know what, no. Rocco, he wasn't even a man. He was more like a flea. Victor did not even think twice about it."

Beckett got some more details out of Angelica about this Rocco character before winding up the interview. We rose to our feet with Beckett thanking Angelica for coming in and helping us. I thought about offering to console the bereaved widow and actually was about to put that offer to voice but I caught sight of Beckett and found her giving me a look, almost as if she had read my mind.

Needless to say, all thoughts of offering to console the bereaved Angelica were very quickly discarded.

Beckett and I emerged from the interview lounge and started walking down the hallway. With thoughts of consoling the grieving widow quickly forgotten I returned to my theories about the missing fifth bullet.

"You suppose the flea had a gun?" I asked. "A tiny gun with invisible bullets?"

"Ice bullets and fleas with guns?" Beckett said glancing in my direction as we reached her desk. "Do you have writer's block again?"

Wow. I had been around Beckett a while now that she could spot when I was going through a little writer's block. It must have been the observant detective in her. And, yes, I will admit there are times when I am suffering from a bout of writer's block I will spout theories that are well out of left field, further out of left field than my usual armoury of three lettered government agencies. However, this time was not the case. The book I was writing was ticking along nicely.

"Stephen King wrote stories of blood thirsty cars and sold millions of copies." I replied. "I figure, why be limited by logic?"

For that response I got a roll of the eyes from Beckett. Esposito came up to her desk. Beckett handed to him a sheet of paper.

"Rocco Jones, Fink's old assistant." Beckett explained to him. "The wife said Rocco called and left threatening messages for Fink. See what you can find."

"I'm on it." Esposito said crisply.

My attention was drawn to one of the conference rooms where Ryan was talking to the man that we came to know as Jeremy Prestwick.

"Hey, what's up with Ryan?" I asked Esposito.

Both Esposito and Beckett also turned and looked in the direction of the conference room.

"Mugging case." Esposito informed us. "The guy got hit on the head and can't remember who he is."

I turned to look at Beckett, trying very hard not to look too excited.

"Oh, missing bullets are cool, amnesia is even cooler." I told her as I moved off and headed for the conference room. I was departing I caught sight of Beckett shaking her head.

Jeremy was slowly emptying his pockets and Ryan was inspecting the contents he was placing on the table.

"I'm sure you have better things to do. I'm sure I do too." Jeremy said.

Ryan picked up an inhaler and inspected it a moment.

"An inhaler." Ryan said. "You're an asthmatic."

"Awesome." Jeremy replied without much enthusiasm.

"You should probably hang on to that." Ryan said handing the inhaler back.

Jeremy looked at the items that he had placed on the table.

"Inhaler, grocery bag, keys." Jeremy remarked as he looked down at the items on the table.

"Are you telling me you don't remember at all, what any of that's for?" Ryan said motioning to the items on the desk.

"Yeah. How ridiculous is that?"

I walked into the conference room. I smiled and nodded a greeting to Jeremy who smiled and nodded back. I made my way over to where Ryan was standing and leaned in close to him.

"So, has he, uh, really got amnesia?" I said in a low voice.

"Yeah. But apparently my hearing's fine." Jeremy said with a small grin.

I turned to look at Jeremy and gave him an apologetic look.

"Well, that's good." I said as I walked over to him and held out my hand. "Richard Castle."

Jeremy shook my hand.

"Hi...I'd introduce myself too, but..."

I nodded my head in understanding.

"Yeah, we're just going through his pockets trying to find something that could tell us who he is."

"Oh and apparently I've been reading as well." Jeremy said.

I watched as Jeremy reached inside the coat he was wearing and pulled out a thick paperback. He passed it to me.

"Ah, _Crime And Punishment_. Dostoyevski. Classic." I remarked. I looked at Jeremy. "You have excellent taste."

That brought a little smile to Jeremy's face.

That little smile did not last long.

"Castle." Ryan said as he held out his hand for the book.

I was surprised by the concerned look on his face but passed over the book to him. Ryan turned the book over to reveal a neat looking bullet hole. He opened the book, flipping through the pages until he found the bullet where it had come to a stop. He looked up at us.

"9 millimetre." He announced. "I think we found the missing bullet."

One mystery solved only to find another standing before us and he had been at the gallery at the time of the murder of Victor Fink.

Ryan immediately bagged and tagged the bullet which he removed from the paperback. The bullet was quickly dispatched to ballistics. With that taken care of Ryan sat Jeremy down and started to question him.

I would have sat in on this particular interview but sadly my presence was required elsewhere, a reminder which reached my phone. I had an important meeting that I had to go to. I made my apologies and quickly headed out.

XXXXX

_**Let me know what you thought of this effort by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The Case of The Fifth Bullet

Part 2

At breakfast the following morning I broached the subject of getting a dog with my darling daughter Alexis. I had been expecting a far more enthusiastic response from Alexis about getting a dog. I found her a little cool on the idea much to my disappointment. Leaving the kitchen Alexis headed in the direction of the front door.

I gathered up her bag and found it weighed down with more than a few school books. I brought it over to where she was standing. I chose that moment to bring up the subject of buying a dog again.

"You know, if we get a dog, I could buy him little saddlebags, and then he could carry your books to school, and you wouldn't have to worry about getting scoliosis." I said as I passed over to heavy bag to her.

"Conceptually, I'd like a dog as much as you would." Alexis said. "In reality..." Alexis looked past me towards the kitchen counter where I had left my dirty dishes. "I'm not seeing the guy whose dishes never make it to the sink bending over to scoop poop in Hudson Park."

"I bet I could train him to go to the toilet." I suggested.

Alexis gave me a look that said she doubted it very much.

Alexis went to the front door and opened it only to find Mother standing there on the doorstep still dressed in what she had left the loft in last night and searching her purse for her keys.

"Oh." Alexis said with some surprise. "Gram! I thought you were just sleeping in?"

Mother had a startled, deer-caught-in-the-headlights kind of look on her face but she recovered immediately like the trooper she was and smiled at her granddaughter.

"I was," She told Alexis, "just not in my room."

"You know what?" Alexis said scrunching up her face. "We all share too much."

"Oh, I'm sorry kiddo." Mother said drawing her granddaughter into a hug. "But my happiness cannot be contained."

"I'm going to school. I'm glad you had a nice date."

Alexis rapidly made a hasty exit leaving Mother to slowly dance her way backwards towards me. I caught her.

"I'm assuming from this walk of shame, that you and your high school sweetheart, Chet, had a lovely night, all night...talking." I said carefully.

"Among other things." Mother grinned.

"Mmm. It's been a few weeks." I replied. "Do I need to sit him down and ask him his intentions?"

"I'm having too much to worry about his intentions." Mother said happily.

I could not help but smile seeing Mother looking so happy.

"Okay," She said, "he took me for a lovely candlelight dinner, horse and carriage ride through Central Park where we watched the sun rise over the same boulder where we shared our first kiss."

As Mother was recounting her wonderful date with her highschool sweetheart she was making her way towards the stairs and started up them.

"Wait, that's still his make-out spot?" I said with some alarm. "Mother, that's a red flag."

Mother paused half way up the stairs and turned to look at me.

"Honey, nothing you say can spoil this for me." Mother informed me. "I haven't felt this way since..." Mother paused and looked into the distance letting out a loud sigh. "I can't remember when."

"Ah, amnesia." I nodded my head in understanding. "It's going around. Speaking of which, I'm off."

Mother had disappeared up the stairs.

"I'd tell you not to wait up, but clearly there would be no point." I said, more to myself.

I grabbed my keys and headed out the front door.

XXX

For the next part of the story I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life.

Beckett was at her desk. With her was Esposito. Both of them were staring in the direction of the conference room. Jeremy was sitting in the room. He was with Doctor Holloway.

"His finger prints aren't in the system, and we don't have any hits on Missing Persons." Beckett said.

"This is crazy." Esposito said with a shake of his head. "We actually find a witness to our murder, and we don't know who he is and he doesn't remember what he saw."

Beckett turned away from the conference room.

"Where are we on Rocco?" She asked.

"Fink's old assistant?" Esposito said.

Beckett nodded.

"Uniforms are bringing him in now."

Ryan walked over to Beckett's desk.

"Ballistics confirms that the bullet came from the same gun as the others." Ryan reported. "Whatever happened in the gallery, he was there."

"Not only there, but someone tried to kill him, as well." Beckett replied. "Good thing he reads."

"Good thing he reads Russian literature." Ryan said. "If the guy was a Nicholas Sparks fan, he'd be dead."

"Have CSU check the coat for gunpowder residue, blood, fibres." Beckett ordered. "Maybe it can tell us what happened that night. And check photo IDs on Fink's artists and clients."

Ryan looked at Beckett.

"You think he might be one of them?"

"A girl can dream." Beckett replied.

Beckett rose to her feet and swung round and had barely taken a couple of steps when she crashed into me. Under normal circumstances that should not have been embarrassing, a little awkward maybe, sure. Only this time I was carrying two mugs of coffee, one of which was Beckett's which I had gone to fetch. Our collision resulted in the coffee that I was carrying being spilt all over Beckett's blouse. Beckett's white blouse which was now coffee coloured and transparent, very transparent.

"I brought you coffee." I said a little horrified, and desperately trying not to stare at her transparent blouse.

"Thank you, Castle." Beckett replied tersely.

I had gone to get Beckett some coffee a little while back. However whilst in the break room I got to talking to one of the guys there, Detective Santino. We had started talking about our amnesia guy and then the conversation had segued to the recent birth of his baby daughter. As the father of a daughter I was more than happy to give him the benefit of my experience for which he was more than happy to receive. We had been talking for a long time before I suddenly realised that I had a coffee delivery to make.

I can't tell you how relieved I was that when I splashed Beckett with the coffee the liquid was lukewarm and not piping hot, which it would have been if I had come straight back from the break room. I don't know what I would have done if I had scolded her with hot coffee. I would never have forgiven myself.

Beckett gave me one of her glares after looking down at her ruined white blouse. There was a little more intensity in that look when she realised that her blouse had become transparent. She did not say anything else before she stepped back turned and rapidly fled from the bullpen in the direction of the changing rooms.

Looking around I saw the boys looking at me both of whom had disapproving expressions on their faces as they shook their heads. I shrugged my shoulders and made a retreat back to the break room.

A little later Beckett and I were seated at the table in the conference room. Beckett had changed into a purple turtle neck sweater and a brown leather jacket which she just happened to have sitting in her locker. At the head of the table was Dr Holloway. Seated across from us Jeremy.

When Beckett and I were sitting down Beckett had asked Doctor Holloway if his offer to take me away was still open. At first I did not know if that was a little joke from Beckett or if she actually meant it. After she had returned from getting changed I had apologised profusely for spilling the coffee over her. I even offered to clean her blouse for her but she declined the offer. I then offered to pay for the dry cleaning, again that offer was declined. The offer to buy her a new blouse was also turned down.

I looked at Beckett with some alarm when she had asked that question of Doctor Holloway. Then a small smile appeared on her lips and I felt a little relieved. I think she forgave me. At least I hoped she did.

Doctor Holloway was explaining to us and to Jeremy that there were three different types of memory. General knowledge like language and facts, is called semantic memory. He told Jeremy that it did not seem that his semantic memory was affected. The second kind of memory was called procedural memory, which is sometimes called muscle memory. This kind of memory includes any actions or skills that are repeated over and over and formed neural pathways for example, like riding a bike. The Doc was certain that Jeremy's procedural memory was intact because he had been walking around.

"So, what's the problem?" I asked.

"The problem is in episodic memory." Doctor Holloway replied. He turned to look at Jeremy. "That's any experience you've ever had, conversations, movies you've seen, the people in your life, even your own name."

"So, like, if I was a betting man, which I have no idea if I am, would I put money on my memory coming back, or not?"

"There's no way to tell." Doctor Holloway said with a shrug. "You might eventually get it all back, or none of it. Or anything in between."

"Do we know why this would have happen?" Beckett asked.

"He's got a bump on the back of his head." Doctor Holloway replied. "It's usually a blow to the head coupled with psychological trauma, which leads to amnesia."

"Trauma?" Jeremy said.

"You did get shot." I told Jeremy. I then looked over to the doctor. "Could it be that?"

Doctor Holloway nodded his head. "If he believed he was going to die, then sure."

"If we took him back to the scene of the crime, could that jog his memory?" I said.

"Possibly." Doctor Holloway conceded. "But amnesia is a tricky condition. I'd like to take him back to Saint Vincent's, run some tests and scans, just to be safe."

"Of course." Beckett said. "I'll need to ask a few questions first."

Beckett opened her portfolio and then looked across the table to Jeremy.

"Mr...I'm sorry, I don't even know what to call you." Beckett said a little apologetically.

"I don't know what to call me, either." Jeremy replied with a smile.

Suddenly something that Doctor Holloway had said struck a cord with me. I looked over to the doctor.

"You said his procedural memory was intact?" I said.

"Yes." Doctor Holloway replied, nodding his head.

Then I looked at Beckett and pointed to her portfolio.

"May I?"

"Sure." Beckett replied, looking at me quizzically.

I took Beckett's portfolio turned it around and then slid it across the table towards Jeremy.

"Just sign at the bottom." I told him.

I watched as Jeremy picked up the pen that was in the portfolio and quickly scribbled out his signature at the bottom of the writing pad. Suddenly a look of surprise appeared on Jeremy's face.

"Well, that's freaky." He said. He looked up from the writing pad. "How the hell did I do that?"

Beckett took back her portfolio and examined the signature at the bottom of the writing pad.

"That looks like a real signature." She remarked.

"Well, it probably is." Doctor Holloway said. "You sign your name so many times..."

"You form neural pathways. Procedural memory." I told Jeremy.

"So, he can't remember his name, but he can sign it?" Beckett looked at the doctor.

"Mysteries of the brain." Doctor Holloway said and shrugged.

I took a look at the signature on the writing pad.

"It's illegible. Maybe you're a doctor?" I suggested.

"His first initial looks like a 'J'. Does that ring a bell?"

"Nope." Jeremy shook his head.

"Maybe we should just call you J?" I suggested with a smile.

"J. It's as good as anything, I guess."

Beckett picked up a photocopy of a picture of our murder victim and passed it across the desk to Jeremy.

"Do you recognise this man?" She asked.

Jeremy looked at the picture.

"No. Should I?" He replied.

"His name is Victor Fink." Beckett informed him. "He owned the gallery where you were shot."

"He was there with me?"

"He was shot and killed." Beckett said.

"Oh, God."

Jeremy put down the picture. Beckett then passed another picture.

"What about this man? Rocco Jones. He used to work at the gallery."

Jeremy studied the second picture and then shook his head. He put the picture down.

"Guys, I feel so useless." Jeremy said as he looked at us. "Look, I'm really...I'm really sorry. I...I just don't know him."

Before Jeremy could get really agitated at his inability to remember Beckett assured him that it was alright. Jeremy settled down and a small smile returned to his face. I could not help but smile as I glanced at Beckett. Once more I was left to marvel at this woman sitting beside me.

XXX

While Beckett and I were in the conference room with Jeremy and Doctor Holloway, uniforms had brought in Rocco Jones and put him in the interrogation room.

For the next part of the story I have to thank Detective Esposito.

Esposito was seated at the table across from Rocco Jones. Rocco was a scruffy looking individual in his mid twenties with some designer stubble covering his face and hair that was unkempt. He was dressed in denim trousers and jacket.

When Esposito had walked in to the interrogation room he had placed a digital recorder on the table and then sat down. He pressed the play button and then leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his back, listening to the recording.

_After all I did for you Fink._" Said the angry voice of Rocco on the recording. "_I wasn't just your assistant, man. I broke the law for you, and you think you can just fire me? I should kill you, man. Just pop you right in the back. Bang! And you're dead."_

Esposito straightened up in his chair and switched off the recorder. He looked at Rocco.

"Whew. Wow. So, you finally get the courage to do it here, Rocco?" He said.

"Dude, come on." Rocco replied. "I was mad. I was just blowing off steam."

"You said you broke the law for him. How?" Esposito asked.

Rocco stared at Esposito but remained silent. Esposito shrugged.

"Fine by me, pal." Esposito said. He closed his folder picked it up and rose to his feet. "Have a nice trial."

"Come on. Wh...what the hell are you talking about?" Rocco said staring up at the detective.

"You threatened a guy. Then he turns up dead. You do the math." Esposito told him.

The detective turned and started walking slowly towards the door. Rocco considered what he had been told and he realised that he was facing a serious murder charge. He was in serious trouble.

"Forgeries." Rocco called out.

Esposito had reached the door and stopped. A small satisfied grin flashed upon his face on hearing Rocco call out. The smile vanished from his face before he turned around. A serious expression now resided on his face as he stared at the young man.

"Fink paid me to paint high end forgeries." Rocco explained. "I was struggling, man. I needed the dough."

Esposito walked back to the table.

"What did he do with the copies?"

"Sold them. Passed them along to the buyer like they were the real thing." Rocco said.

"Who did he sell to?" Esposito demanded.

At first Rocco was not too willing to provide the name of the buyer of the forgeries. A little gentle verbal persuasion from Esposito and soon the name was provided. Esposito then sat down at the table and spent around half an hour getting Rocco's statement.

A little later with Rocco released Esposito was sitting at his desk. He called Beckett over to brief her on the information he had managed to extract from Rocco.

"Bahir Harun." Esposito announced motioning to his computer screen which showed the website he had called up. Bahir Harun was the name that Rocco had given Esposito.

"He's an attache at the Bahrain consulate." Esposito added.

"Bahrain?" Beckett said.

Esposito nodded his head.

"So, he's the one who talked to Fink an hour before he was murdered." Beckett said. "Maybe he figured out that Fink was selling fakes and decided to get even."

"Doesn't matter." Esposito replied. He pointed to the computer screen. "The guy has full diplomatic immunity."

"Great." Beckett frowned.

Esposito shrugged as if to say 'What can you do?'

Ryan wheeled himself over to Esposito's desk, which was not all that far. Both Beckett and Esposito turned to look at him.

"So, I checked all the photo Ids of all of Fink's clients and artists." Ryan said. "Our friend J isn't one of them."

"Then what was he doing at the gallery?" Esposito asked.

"Holloway called from the hospital. Aside from a minor head bump, J's got a clean bill of health. Well, other than the memory loss." Ryan replied.

An idea suddenly came to Beckett.

"You know, why don't you guys grab J, take him down to the crime scene." Beckett suggested. "See if that sparks his memory."

Both Esposito and Ryan nodded their heads. Beckett was not finished in issuing orders.

"And get a hold of Fink's assistant, Darius. Tell him to meet you down there, with every file on Bahir Harun."

"You got it." Esposito replied crisply.

XXXXX

_**Let me know what you thought of this chapter by dropping me a line. I'd love to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

The Case of The Fifth Bullet

Part 3

For the next part of the story I have to thank both Detectives Ryan and Esposito.

Ryan and Esposito pulled up at the front of the art gallery. Ryan got out of the car and opened the back door of the car to allow Jeremy to get out of the car. A pair of uniforms also pulled up. Waiting for the boys on the side walk was Darius Langley. Esposito walked over to Darius to inform him what he needed from him.

Ryan walked up to the front door of the gallery. He produced a pocket knife and cut through the police sticker that had been stuck across the door. He also had a set of keys for the front door and he unlocked the door and this little party entered the gallery and headed up the stairs.

Esposito escorted Darius over to the office area where Darius set about getting the information on Bahir Harun.

Ryan and Jeremy were standing near the top of the stairs where the body of Victor Fink had been found. Jeremy studied the blood stains on the walls. The place had not been cleaned up as yet. Jeremy had a look of concentration on his face as if he was willing his memory to come back to him. He turned to look at Ryan.

"And you're sure I was here?" Jeremy said.

"Take your time." Ryan replied. "No pressure."

Jeremy started to move away from the stair area and he looked about him.

"Isn't this supposed to be where I get a headache and flashes of memory start overwhelming me until all the pieces come together?" Jeremy asked with a little smile on his face.

"Okay, you've seen too many movies." Ryan remarked.

"Yeah, that I can't remember."

"Wow. That's very chicken-egg."

"Welcome to my world." Jeremy said, glancing at Ryan. He moved over to inspect a piece of art.

Darius was standing at the desk. He had finalised the printing up of the information of the purchases Bahir Harun had made. He gathered up the sheets of paper and inserted them into a blue coloured folder. Having finished that task he looked across the gallery to where Jeremy was standing.

"Weird, that someone could lose their mind like that." He remarked.

"Are you sure you don't recognise him?" Esposito asked.

Esposito had been standing by the desk watching Darius gathering the information.

"I don't think so." Darius replied. "But I've only been here a few months."

Esposito nodded his head. Darius picked up the blue folder from the desk and then held it out to Esposito.

"Anyway, here's everything I could find on Mr Harun." Darius said. "All purchases going back three years."

Esposito took the folder and pulled out the sheets of paper and took a look through the information.

"I still can't believe Fink was trafficking in forgeries." Darius added.

Ryan and Esposito gave Jeremy as much time as possible in the hope that something might jog his memory. Jeremy inspected almost every piece of artwork that was hanging on the walls and the few statues that dotted the place. Sadly after a few hours of looking around Jeremy frowned and slowly shook his head. He could not remember this art gallery at all.

The boys returned Jeremy back to the station.

While Ryan was taking care of Jeremy, Beckett and I stopped by Esposito's desk. He opened the folder and pulled out the information sheets that Darius had given him. These sheets contained information as well as photos of the paintings that had been purchased by Bahir Harun.

"Harun's purchases from Fink." Esposito announced as he shuffled through the sheets.

"That's dozens of paintings." I remarked.

"Yeah and according to Fink's old assistant, Rocco, any and all of these could have been forgeries." Esposito added.

I recognised a few of the paintings. I grabbed one of the sheets.

"This is a Jules Matterson." I announced. "This is worth $100,000 easy."

"Yeah, but you only pay Rocco a grand to knock it off." Beckett replied.

"Fink could've ripped Harun off for millions." Esposito suggested.

"Who says crime doesn't pay?" I said.

"Someone took me for that much, I could see putting a bullet in his back." Esposito remarked as he glanced at Beckett.

"Well, that explains why Harun went after Fink." I mused. "But what about J?"

Beckett looked at me.

"We need to talk to Harun."

Beckett started to move away from Esposito's desk. I could see that she was going to go into Captain Montgomery's office. I would have gone with her to keep her company but unfortunately I had a business meeting that I had to go to, a meeting which I had rescheduled a couple of times already and this time I could not avoid. I bid Beckett goodbye and headed for the elevator.

XXX

I have to thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life for the next part of this story, as well as Detective Ryan.

Beckett had been in Captain Montgomery's office for a little while briefing him on the state of the case and her need to speak with Bahir Harun. Both Captain Montgomery and Beckett emerged from the captain's office. The captain was finished for the day and was heading out. Beckett was walking with him.

"Beckett, I hate diplomatic immunity as much as the next cop." Captain Montgomery said with some exasperation. Beckett had been rather persistent with her efforts to get Harun in for a little talk. "But as far as you're concerned, forget the guy. I put in an interview request. Now it's in the State Department's hands. Period."

Captain Montgomery and Becckett had reached the elevator.

"Fine." Beckett replied in response to the Captain's order. "But, sir, what about the other victim?"

"Guy with amnesia. So?"

"He has nowhere to go tonight."

"Well, turn him over to Social Services." Captain Montgomery replied. "State's problem, not ours."

"I know, sir, but he'll probably end up in a homeless shelter." Beckett said. She gave her captain a look. "He's a person of interest and a potential witness. I would hate to lose him to the system."

Captain Montgomery let out a sigh and then looked at Beckett. He knew immediately where this conversation was going.

"Okay." He said finally, as he stepped into the elevator. "But my couch is off limits."

Beckett smiled at her captain. "Thank you, sir."

A little later Ryan escorted Jeremy into the break room. Beckett stood by watching as the two men threw a blanket over the couch.

"It's not the plaza." Ryan said. "But I have snuck many a power nap on this couch over the years. You should sleep fine."

"I'm grateful not to go anywhere with strangers." Jeremy said.

"It's not a problem." Beckett told him.

Jeremy nodded his head and slowly sat down on the couch. Slowly he lifted his head to look up at Beckett and Ryan.

"You know, it's terrifying to think that someone actually tried to kill me, and I don't know who it was, or why. And they're still out there." Jeremy said.

"That's why we're going to catch the bastard." Ryan assured him.

"But to do that, we need to find out who you are." Beckett informed him. "So we're going to release your photograph to the media tomorrow morning."

Jeremy nodded his head but a look of concern moved across his face.

"What if nobody recognises it?" He asked.

"I'm sure someone will." Ryan replied.

"But what if nobody does and I don't remember? Then who am I?"

It was not just concern Jeremy was expressing. It was fear as well. The fear of not remembering who he was, of not remembering what his name was even. That was a state of affairs that would be down right scary for anyone. Beckett understood his fear as she regarded Jeremy for some moments.

"I promise you," Beckett said gently but firmly, "we wont give up on you."

A small smile appeared on his unshaved face which seemed to lessen the fears that had arisen. He gave Beckett a nod of thanks.

XXX

The business meeting I had attended had gone a little over time I suppose it was a lesson to me not to reschedule such meetings in the future. It had been a fruitful if rather long meeting. Arriving home to the loft I was confronted with a minor crisis. I realised this when I found Mother and Alexis sitting at the kitchen counter with a number of open ice cream tubs sitting in the counter and table spoons held in their hands.

"My science teacher says that chocolate contains chemicals that are proven to relieve depression." Alexis informed Mother.

"Well, it's good, but I prefer grape, aged, bottled and corked." Mother replied.

"You're having an ice cream tasting and no one called, texted or tweeted?" I said as I approached them.

"Gram broke it off with Chet, so I suggested sugar therapy." Alexis informed me.

"What happened to sunrise in Central Park?" I asked with a little concern.

"Who am I kidding?" Mother replied. "It's a fairy tale."

"And what woman doesn't want a fairy tale?" I said.

"He's not who I thought he was."

"How so?"

"Million different little things. You know, he doesn't drive, he's skinny. Oh, and he has this laugh like..." Mother made a honking sound trying to imitate Chet's laugh and failed.

"I can't even do it." Mother continued. "It's like a honking goose, kind of..."

"These are sitcom reasons for breaking up." I pointed out. "This morning you were in love.

I must say I was a little concerned. This morning I had not seen Mother looking so happy, really happy in a long time. Over the years I had seen her parade an assortment of lovers and good time guys, and amongst all of them there might have one, maybe two men who she was really interested in. Chet had been in that exclusive and select and very small group.

"What possibly could have happened?" I asked.

"Dad, back off." Alexis warned, giving me a look that kind of reminded me of a lioness protecting her cubs. I had seen that look on Beckett too. I did what I was told.

"The spark died." Alexis continued. "She's obviously reconsidered."

"That's right." Mother nodded. "And now we're going through the five flavours of grieving."

"Is the first stage accepting the ice cream?" I asked.

"Exactly." Mother said.

"Then I'm in." I said as I plunged my spoon into a tub of strawberry ice cream.

XXX

The following morning I got to the precinct a little early and walking into the bullpen I was a little surprised to find Beckett had yet to arrive. Doctor Holloway was sitting with Jeremy in the conference room conducting a cognitive abilities test. I slipped into the room to observe. Both the doctor and Jeremy gave nods of greeting but did not stop what they were doing. Half an hour or so later Doctor Holloway was finished with his examination. He gathered up his things and started to head out.

I walked out with Doctor Holloway curious to see how Jeremy had scored on the tests. Ryan joined us and the Doc told us of Jeremy's results. Ryan saw the Doctor out. I turned my attention to the conference room and looked at Jeremy. Suddenly a thought occurred to me. It took me a few minutes to find an artists' sketch book and a couple of pencils.

Armed with those items I headed for the conference room. Ryan had returned to the bullpen after seeing off the doctor and he spotted the sketch book in my hand. He asked me what I was doing so I told him about the idea I had. Ryan said to give it a shot, you never know.

Entering the conference room I passed the sketch book and pencils over to Jeremy. Jeremy gave me a quizzical look but then the expression lightened when I asked him to draw me. I sat myself down at the table and struck a side on pose.

Jeremy shrugged his shoulders picked up one of the pencils and set about to do a sketch of me.

A short while later Beckett arrived. She was met by Ryan just outside the break room where she had been standing and looking into the room. The blankets had been neatly fold and set on the couch. Ryan informed her that Jeremy had slept like a rock over night as they made their way to the bullpen and over to Beckett's desk. Ryan also informed her that Doctor Holloway had been in a little earlier and conducted a cognitive abilities test on Jeremy, where he had scored through the roof on the quantitative part of the test. He showed her the results.

"He's good at math." Beckett remarked. "Maybe he was an engineer, or in accounting or financing."

"Or just good at math." Ryan replied.

Beckett looked in the direction of the conference room and found me sitting there having my portrait done.

"Castle's testing his drawing abilities." Ryan explained in answer to Beckett's unasked question. "See if he's an artist." He added. "Maybe he was trying to convince Fink to show his work."

"I suppose we should be thankful he didn't offer to pose nude." Beckett remarked.

"Yeah, thanks for that." Ryan made a face as if he was trying to remove an image which had suddenly appeared in his head. He looked at Beckett. "Hey, any idea if we're going to get to talk to that attaché, Harun?"

"Radio silence." Beckett said. "We got to ID J."

"Yeah."

Beckett's attention was drawn to the television set that was mounted on the wall next to the conference room. It was one of the local news services and at that moment a picture of Jeremy was flashed on the screen.

"Speak of the devil." Beckett said.

"Yeah. They've been showing it all morning."

"Any calls yet?" Beckett asked as she turned to look at Ryan.

"No."

"Well, until we figure out who he is, we've got nothing."

Setting her portfolio and cup of coffee down Beckett came into the conference room.

"So, what's the verdict?" She asked.

Jeremy's pen flashed across the page of the sketch book and then tossed down the pencil on the table. Slowly he turned the sketch book to reveal his efforts. I stared at the drawing he had just done for a few moments. I was looking at a drawing of me that had an overly large head and a small nose. It was the standard of a school kid. Actually somewhere in my archives were a few that Alexis had done of me when she had been little.

"Wow." I said. I was trying to be kind, so as not to hurt Jeremy's feelings.

"You really captured his soul." Beckett said straight faced.

I looked up and saw that she was struggling very hard not to laugh at what she was looking at. It was a battle she almost lost.

"Okay, so you're not an artist." I said. "I'm sure you have many other talents."

Jeremy threw the sketch book onto the table.

"Just not a talent for remembering them." Jeremy said, sounding a little downhearted.

A commotion in the bullpen drew our attention.

"Oh, that's him." A woman's voice said excitedly. "No, no, that's him! Thank God."

"Can I help you?" Ryan said intercepting the woman.

I turned to look at Jeremy and smiled at him.

"I think we're about to find out who you are." I said as I rose to my feet.

"Do you recognise her?" Beckett asked.

Jeremy looked at the woman and then looked at Beckett and shook his head.

"No. But then again, I don't recognise myself in the mirror." Jeremy replied.

On a nod from Beckett Ryan let the young woman, who we came to know as Tory Westchester, to come into the conference room.

"Go ahead, ma'am." Ryan said.

Tory Westchester, a brunette of average height aged in her mid to late twenties, came rushing into the conference room and ran up to Jeremy and started kissing him. Jeremy was a little taken aback by the woman kissing him. Ryan came into the room.

"Tory Westchester. Wife." He announced as he passed the woman's driver's license to Beckett.

"I was so scared I lost you." Tory said excitedly. "Oh, sweetie. So it's true? You really don't remember anything?"

"He's suffering from amnesia." Beckett informed Tory.

"I knew something was wrong. I knew it." Tory said.

Tory leaned up and kissed Jeremy again. He broke off the kiss and leaned a little away from Tory.

"J, are you crying?" I asked, noticing the tears in Jeremy's eyes.

"I think I am." Jeremy replied.

"Do you feel a connection?" Beckett inquired as she watched Tory kissing Jeremy again.

"Yeah. It's pretty overwhelming." Jeremy replied in a muffled tone.

"Of course it is, baby." Tory said. "I love you so much. We will get through this, whatever it takes."

"Uh, Ms Westchester, how long have you two been married?" Beckett asked.

In response to Beckett's question Tory held up her hand and showed us the ring on her finger.

"Two years, this past October." Tory added.

"And you said his name was Joel?" Beckett said.

Tory turned to look at Beckett.

"Joel Westchester." Tory said and then turned to look at Jeremy. "Oh, honey look at you. You do remember me."

Tory kissed Jeremy again. Jeremy suddenly pulled away from Tory and started to cough and gasp. His face started turning red.

"Love conquers all!" Tory declared happily. "Oh, it's all going to be fine."

Tory tried to move a little closer but Jeremy pushed her away. His gasping for air became a little more frantic.

Beckett and I moved a little closer, concern starting to appear on our faces.

"Are you okay?" Beckett asked Jeremy.

"What is it?" Tory asked. "What is it my darling?"

"I think he's having an asthma attack." I announced.

"You have an inhaler in your pocket. Get it." Beckett ordered him.

Jeremy dug into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the inhaler and brought it to his mouth and took a couple of puffs. My attention was drawn to some animal hair that was sitting on Tory;s shoulder. I reached out and plucked it up and examined a little closer. I recognised the animal hair I had collected.

"Ms Westchester do you have cats?"

"Eight, like Jon and Kate." Tory said with a smile.

"I think Joel here is allergic to cats." I stated.

"Really?"

A glare appeared on Beckett's face as she looked at Tory Westchester.

"Ms Westchester you're not really married to him, are you?" She said.

Tory turned to look at Beckett.

"I could be. I so could be! Why the hell shouldn't I be?" Tory shouted.

I kind of startled at her sudden outburst. Beckett might have also been startled by the outburst but she moved up to Tory and quickly apprehended her. Tory put up a bit of a struggle but she was no match for Beckett, who quickly subdued her, twisting her arm behind her back and then frog marching her out of the conference room and into the waiting arms of Ryan and a uniform who had heard the commotion.

I had gone up to Jeremy to see if he was alright. The couple of puffs from his inhaler had settled the attack and his breathing was returning to normal.

A little later Beckett and I were sitting at her desk. Ryan came up to Beckett's desk holding a file.

"She's been in and out of mental facilities for more than ten years." he reported.

Neither Beckett nor I had to ask who 'she' was.

"Every personality disorder in the book." He added. "Sorry about that."

Beckett nodded her head. It was not really Ryan's fault that Tory Westchester got through and caused a stir in the conference room. Beckett was not going to beat him over the head with it.

"Just another contestant on W_ho Wants To Marry An Amnesiac?"_ I remarked sadly.

Captain Montgomery emerged from his office.

"Beckett." He called out. "Your attaché, Mr Harun, he's on his way down. He agreed to talk."

Beckett turned to look at me with a surprised expression on her face. Slowly one of her eyebrows arched upwards.

XXX

About half an hour later the doors of the elevator slid open and a man of average height and build with a bald head and a neatly trimmed greying beard stepped out of the elevator. He was dressed in a grey hand tailored business suit from one of the more exclusive establishments in Saville Rowe in London. This was Bahir Harun.

Harun started down the hallway. He was flanked by three tall and burly men dressed in dark suits with bulges in their jackets, no doubt his bodyguards and from the looks of them, they were the types you did not want to mess with.

"He just showed up voluntarily?" Ryan questioned.

"He wants to stay in control." I replied.

We watched as Harun and his retinue strode purposefully in the direction of one of the interrogation rooms where Captain Montgomery was waiting to greet him.

"This could be our only shot." Beckett said. "Let's make sure that Harun gets a good look at our friend J."

"Inadvertent, of course." Esposito added.

"If Harun thinks that he killed J, then his reaction could tell us everything we need to know." Beckett declared. She picked up her portfolio and started walking. "Let's go."

The three body guards regarded Beckett and me as we approached the interrogation room. Beckett ignored them and walked straight into the interrogation room. I followed her but this time left the door open. We exchanged greetings and did the introductions and then we sat down at the table across from Harun.

"Mr Harun, you were a client of Mr Finks?" Beckett asked.

"That's correct." Harun replied in a voice that had an English accent to it, indicating he had spent his school years at one of the more exclusive English public schools.

"You bought a significant number of works from him?"

"Yes." Harun brushed off lint from his trouser leg.

"Well, we believe that many of those works were forgeries." Beckett informed him.

"That's correct." Harun agreed.

Beckett was a little surprised by Harun's answer. To be honest I too was surprised by his admission.

"So, you're saying that you knew they were fakes?"

"Of course I knew."

"And you bought them anyway?"

Harun nodded his head.

"I have many friends back home whose wives are, shall we say, um, demanding."

"And what do demanding wives have to do with any of this?"

"Well, we all know that the fairer sex can be shallow." Harun said. Realising what he had said, he hurriedly added. "Not you, of course, Detective. A smart, liberated, American woman."

I had to give Harun points for that rather quick recovery. I had glanced in Beckett's direction when he had made that remark about women being shallow. The only reaction she had given off was a slight twitch. I had visions of it becoming rather messy in here.

"My friends' wives," Harun continued, "they want a bag that says 'Gucci'. They don't care who made the bag, as long as it has that signature. And it's the same with paintings. They are more appreciative of the signature than of the work itself. And my friends don't always want to pay top dollar on authentic pieces. So Victor would commission a copy, my friends save money, I get rich, and the wives get to think they have extravagant artwork on their walls. Everyone's happy. And no one has broken the law."

As Harun was talking I turned my head and started to slowly scratch the back of my neck. I cast my gaze out the door of the interrogation room. I saw Ryan take up a position in a doorway. Standing in front of him was Jeremy. Both men were trying to look surreptitious. Jeremy cast a look into the interrogation room and shook his head in response to a question from Ryan. I got the impression that Jeremy did not recognise the man Beckett and I were speaking to.

I slowly turned back and looked at Harun.

"So you only bought fakes from Fink?" I asked him.

"No. He would also source originals for those husbands with taste." Harun replied with a brief smile appearing on his face. "I was happy to provide even though originals pay less. What with everyone wanting fair market value and all."

"That night that Mr Fink was murdered, you called him not long before he was killed." Beckett said.

"That is correct, Detective." Harun said. "He...he told me to come by, that he had a painting for me. I showed up at 9:45, but he sent me away."

"Sent you away?" Beckett questioned.

"Yes. He was arguing with a man."

"About what?"

"I have no idea. I respected his wishes and went for dinner at Nobu."

"Do you think you can describe this man?"

Harun looked at Beckett with a put upon expression on his face.

"Please. Must we continue with this ridiculous charade when we both know he is standing right there." Harun pointed to where Jeremy was standing.

Both Beckett and I turned and looked at Jeremy.

"Now, if that is all..." Harun said as he got to his feet.

"Mr Harun, I'm not quite done yet." Beckett told him.

"Ah. But I am." Harun said with a humourless smile. "Have a nice day."

We watched as Harun stepped out of the interrogation room. One of his bodyguards handed to him his expensive looking coat and scarf. He turned and marched for the elevator.

I turned and looked at Beckett. I offered up an 'oh well' kind of shrug of the shoulders. Beckett nodded her head as she closed her portfolio and rose to her feet.

Beckett and I emerged from the interrogation room and headed for the bullpen.

"For a guy with diplomatic immunity, he wasn't very diplomatic." I remarked.

"Harun's hiding behind his immunity." Beckett replied. "He knows more than he's saying."

"Maybe." Esposito interrupted, as we were walking past his desk. "But his alibi is good."

Beckett gave Esposito a look.

"Nobu has him on security video entering at 9:55pm" Esposito continued. "19 minutes before the 911 call about shots fired. He's not our guy."

"Well, just because he didn't pull the trigger, doesn't mean he wasn't involved." Beckett stated.

Call her sex 'shallow', will he? I thought to myself.

"And just because J was shot doesn't mean he wasn't into something shady." I pointed out. "Could be the reason he was shot."

"Harun said he saw J arguing with Fink." Beckett said.

"We need to figure out why J was the gallery." Esposito said.

"And we can't do that if we don't know who the hell he is."

Beckett marched over to her desk and dumped her portfolio on her desk. She remained standing and from the look that I saw on her face I could see that she was deep in thought. I was just about to sit down in my chair when Beckett's face suddenly brightened as an idea came to her.

The idea that Beckett had was to go through the stuff that had been found on Jeremy. Perhaps one or more of those items might provide a clue as to his identity. I don't know if it was a brilliant idea but I guess it was worth a shot. So we assembled at Ryan's desk.

Ryan upended the bag that contained the items that had been found on Jeremy. He spread the out on the desk.

"We've been through this." Ryan remarked. "It's just a bunch of junk."

"But if we take a look at everything we know about him collectively, maybe a picture will emerge." Beckett told him.

Ryan picked up a set of keys and held them up.

"Nothing distinctive about these keys." Ryan remarked.

"Yeah, and that plastic bags really narrows it down." I said a little dismissively as I pointed to a white plastic grocery bag.

"Okay." Beckett said, undeterred by the lack of enthusiasm from Ryan and myself. "He's got asthma, he's allergic to cats, he reads."

Ryan picked up the thick paperback from the desk and looked at the bullet hole again.

"And he's good at math and he can't draw." He said, as he put the book down. "Put it together, he's your average asthmatic mathlete with a lot of crap in his pockets."

A uniform approached and passed to Beckett a buff coloured envelope. Beckett nodded her thanks and opened the envelope and pulled out the report it contained..

"It's from Lanie." Beckett informed us. "It's the forensics report on the coat."

"Maybe his driver's license was sewn into the lining." I suggested, a little hopefully.

Beckett continued scanning the report.

"Gun shot residue." She said.

"So, he was shot at close range." Ryan replied.

"Mm-hmm. Coffee stain, sugar granules, traces of milk."

"We know how he takes his coffee." I remarked.

My attention was focused on the items on Ryan's desk. I may not have been all that enthusiastic but if Beckett thought we might be able to find some clue out of this stuff I might as well give it a try and see what I could come up with. I moved around slowly to come to stand beside Ryan, my eyes still focused on the items on the desk.

"Animal hairs." Beckett said, reading off the report.

"Not cat hairs." Ryan added.

My eyes slowly came to rest on the plastic grocery bag. All of a sudden it hit me.

"How could have I missed it?" I exclaimed as I snatched up the grocery bag.

"Missed what?" Beckett asked.

"Do you know what this is?" I replied waving the plastic bag.

"Yeah, it's a grocery bag." Ryan can be a little too literal sometimes.

"No, it's not just a grocery bag, it's the bag that is going to tell us exactly who J is." I declared with an excited smile.

Beckett shot me a quizzical look as did Ryan, I might add. Ryan was about to open his mouth to fire off some questions but he was beaten to the punch by Beckett. I did not have the time to answer questions. I dropped the grocery bag bag on the desk and told Beckett to go grab her keys and meet me at the elevator.

Beckett arrived at the elevator just as the doors were opening and I jumped in. She followed me. She gave me a questioning look as if I had just gone off the reservation. All I would tell her is that the mystery of J would soon be solved. Once in the car I told her to drive us to the gallery.

The traffic was pretty heavy and it took a bit of time to get to the gallery. I wont even tell you how long it took us to find a parking spot. I approached the gallery with growing excitement, almost like a kid who had been locked in a candy store overnight.

Beckett had finally had enough of seeing my enthusiasm and lack of details as to why we had come down to the gallery again.

"Why are you dragging me back to the gallery?" She demanded.

"Not to the art gallery, to the street." I replied with a big smile.

I reached the bike wrack and suddenly the smile on my face faded.

"Ah! It's gone." I said unhappily.

"What's gone?"

"The dog." I replied. I turned to look at Beckett. "That's why he had the bag. To clean up after his dog."

"How do you know it was his dog?"

"Well, why would he have a bag? Why else would there be a dog tied up a commercial building after midnight?"

The points I raised registered with Beckett because she immediately dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone. I turned around and looked about the side walk.

"Maybe someone stole it?" I muttered.

"Get me Animal Control." Beckett said into her phone.

A short time later Beckett and I arrived at the Animal Control Shelter and were shown into the area where the lost dogs were kept in cages. It was a noisy and I have to say a little smelly place. My eyes began to sweep the cages looking for the dog that I had met the other night out the front of the gallery.

"All the canines with ID tags we picked up in the last twenty-four." The Animal Control attendant informed Beckett. "Mostly their owners lost them accidentally and are relieved when we call."

Beckett nodded her head. Her eyes scanned the cages and spotted the dog we were seeking.

"Castle." She said and motioned to the right cage.

My eyes lit up on seeing the dog. I rushed over and opened the cage. The dog was pretty happy to see us because she started licking my face.

"Aw. Who's a good girl?" I said happily as a slobbering tongue coated my face with dog saliva.

"That one's from 148 West 26th." The attendant informed Beckett.

"That's Fink's gallery." Beckett stated.

I managed to check the dog's collar and found her name. It was Lucy. I also saw the name of Lucy's owner.

"Good girl, Lucy." I said happily.

XXXXX

_**I would love to know what you thought of this chapter. Why don't you drop me a line with your thoughts.**_

_**Con **_


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

The Case of The Fifth Bullet

Part 4

On returning to the precinct Beckett set about getting as much information about Jeremy. I wanted to go straight to Jeremy and tell him who he was. Beckett told me to hold off for a little while until she got more information on him. As eager as I was to let Jeremy know his name at least, I had to concede that Beckett was right. It would have been better to wait until we had as much as we could before we confronted him with the information. While Beckett started making calls I took the opportunity to keep Lucy company.

When Beckett had finished and was ready we called Jeremy into the interview lounge. I had handed Lucy over to someone else to look after while we spoke to Jeremy. We were seated around the table in the lounge. Jeremy was looking a little concerned and anxious but Beckett allayed his fears by telling him that we had some good news for him.

"Your name is Jeremy Prestwick." Beckett informed him. "We checked it against your DMV photo and it's a positive ID."

"Jeremy Prestwick." Jeremy said slowly, as if he was trying the name on. He nodded his head slowly.

"You are 34, and you live at 82 Warren Street in Tribeca." Beckett continued. "You don't really have any family. Your parents passed away a few years ago, and you don't have any siblings. But we did manage to get a hold of your ex-wife, Emma Carnes."

Jeremy looked a little surprised at being informed that he had an ex-wife.

"Ex-wife?" He said in a low voice.

"Uh-huh."

"I'm divorced?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Beckett said. "Your ex sounded pretty concerned, and we figured that would be the fastest way of putting together the details, which would be great for you and our investigation."

"If you think it'll help." Jeremy nodded.

Beckett turned and motioned to Ryan who had been standing outside of the interview lounge. Ryan nodded his head and then turned to look at someone who was sitting down. A moment later a blonde woman rose to her feet and followed Ryan towards the interview lounge.

"An ex-wife that I can't remember." Jeremy muttered.

"Hey, some men would consider you lucky." I remarked.

Beckett shot me an amused look. Well, I was kind of half joking when I made that remark. There had been times in the past when I wanted to forget my broken marriages.

The door of the interview lounge was opened by Ryan and he allowed Emma to enter. We all rose to our feet. Emma was a woman in her mid thirties. Beckett had called Emma once she had found that Jeremy was divorced. There was a hesitant almost tentative expression on her face as she took in Jeremy, Beckett and myself.

"Hello, Jeremy." Emma said slowly.

"Hey. Thanks for coming." Jeremy replied. He too was looking a little nervous.

"Sure."

"So, we're divorced?" He asked her.

"Yeah." Emma nodded.

"Must be weird coming here to try and help me out, huh?" Jeremy grinned.

"A little." Emma replied with a hesitant smile.

Emma turned to look at Beckett.

"Please take a seat." Beckett said, motioning Emma to the empty chair.

"So what happened to him?" Emma asked.

"That's what we're trying to find out." I informed her.

"Is there anything you can tell us about Jeremy?" Beckett asked Emma.

"Well, like what?"

"Like, uh, where he works." Beckett suggested.

"Well, as far as I know, he doesn't anymore." Emma said looking at Jeremy. "Okay, this is weird with you sitting right there."

"Tell me about it." Jeremy said with a small smile.

"You have a PhD in economics from Wharton." Emma informed him. "Uh, you had a consulting business in channel economics and strategy. You're smart. Like, crazy smart."

"Had a business?" I questioned.

"Yeah, yeah. He sold it last year."

"Do you know why?" I said.

"No." Emma shook her head. "I thought it was weird. He loved the business."

Jeremy had been watching his ex-wife as she spoke.

"Why did we split up?" he asked suddenly.

Emma turned to look at him.

"Wow. I've ranted for hours to girlfriends about that." She said.

"I'm guessing I don't come off well in that rant." Jeremy said sheepishly.

"You were a jerk."

"Ah." Jeremy nodded his head in understanding.

"But so was I. I mean, the truth is we probably got married too young."

"Look, I'm sorry that I don't recognise you, but you seem incredibly nice and you're gorgeous, and I'm certain that it was entirely my fault that our marriage fell apart."

"See that." Emma said looking at Beckett. "That's the guy I fell in love with. Funny. Sweet. Self-deprecating."

"Hey." Jeremy said.

"Do you know what Jeremy was doing with himself recently?" Beckett asked.

"As far as I know, he was dating the youngest hottest women he could find, and not bothering to put the toilet seat down." Emma replied with a sad grin on her face. Jeremy laughed at that remark, a little embarrassed.

I went through a phase like that after one of my divorces, or it could have been both, where I dated all the youngest and hottest women I could find too. It seemed to have been fun at the time but looking back on that particular phase of my life it was not all that much fun, certainly unrewarding. But I digress.

"Do you have any idea what he might have been doing at the Victor Fink Gallery in Chelsea?" Beckett asked Emma.

"No. I'm sorry." Emma said apologetically. "But we haven't even spoken in almost a year."

Beckett nodded her head.

"Uh, well we're on our way to Jeremy's apartment to see if it sparks anything." Beckett announced. "Would you mind coming along? You might be able to put things in some context."

Emma said that she would be happy to come along and help out where she could.

XXX

Beckett opened the front door of Jeremy's apartment and allowed him to enter first. Beckett and I flanked him and Emma followed us. We walked slowly into the living room. It was plainly furnished with a leather couch, a large rug on the floor. The first thing that struck me was that the place seem a little small. My eyes were drawn to a wall that was turned into bookshelves of a triangular honeycomb type arrangement. The shelves were well stocked.

"Look familiar?" I asked Jeremy.

"Nope." Jeremy replied as he looked around, trying to recognise something familiar. "You can say it. I'm the worst witness ever."

"You're doing fine." Beckett assured him.

I spotted a leather wallet laying on the floor. I bent down.

"Mmm. A wallet." I said as I passed the wallet to Jeremy. "Well, I don't think you were mugged."

"Do you mind if I poke around, open some drawers?" Beckett asked.

"Mi casa...es tu casa." Jeremy replied. A look of surprise appeared on his face. "Hey, look at that, rocking the Spanish."

"We did junior year in Madrid." Emma explained as she walked into the living room.

"Sounds nice." Jeremy grinned.

Beckett began to take a look around, opening a few drawers here and there. I moved over to the bookshelves and inspected the books.

"Here's the rest of your Russian literature collection. You are a very ambitious reader, Mr Prestwick." I remarked, having noted the tomes sitting there. On the shelves were copies of _War And Peace, The Brothers Karamazov, Anna Karenina, The Idiot_ and a few others that I had yet to read.

"You always wanted more time to read." Emma told Jeremy.

"Guess I'm going to have to start over." Jeremy replied.

"That's not such a bad thing." I said. "What I wouldn't give to read _The Cask of Amontillado_ for the first time. Or any Stephen King"

There was a wistful tone in my voice when I said that. I caught sight of Beckett looking at me and rolling her eyes. I quickly shook of my reveries and turned back to the books.

"Ah. Silver lining." I declared and pointed. "You get to read all my books for the first time again."

Though I didn't see it I could feel Beckett giving me another eye roll.

"Anything?" Jeremy asked Beckett.

"It's pretty sparse. Like a guy who spent a lot of time alone." Beckett observed.

"Yeah, I thought you'd have more of a slick pad. Done up with more stuff." Emma added.

I looked around and spotted a painting sitting on top of a small cupboard. I recognised the artist.

"Hey. Taglia." I remarked, pointing to the painting. "This is a pretty pricey painting."

"Emma, do you know if Jeremy bought that painting at a gallery in the city?" Beckett asked.

"No." Emma said and smiled. She started moving towards it. "We bought it together on our honeymoon in Sienna. I can't believe you still have it."

"Why?" Jeremy asked her.

"Well, part of the divorce settlement was to sell it and split the cash." Emma explained. "It appraised for two hundred grand. You sent me my half."

Jeremy moved closer to the painting and studied it carefully for a moment.

"There's something about it that's familiar." He said. Suddenly he shrugged his shoulders. "Or maybe I just like it."

While Jeremy, Emma and I were appreciating the painting, Beckett had continued her search of the apartment. She had moved to a table that was near the window and bent down to a filing cabinet that was under the table. She opened a drawer and looked through the files. Her search turned up something.

"Castle." She called out.

As I approached I saw her rise to her feet. In her gloved hand she held a gun.

"It's 9 millimetre." She announced. She released the magazine and inspected it. She looked at me.

"Five bullets missing." She stated.

This discovery galvanised Beckett into action. She placed Jeremy under arrest and put him in cuffs. Then she called in a cruiser to come and pick up Jeremy to take him back to the precinct and to deliver the murder weapon to ballistics. I could tell that her heart was not really in it but she had no choice but to arrest Jeremy. Jeremy seemed confused over the sudden turn of events but he was nice about it. Emma was in shock as well.

Once the uniforms had come and taken Jeremy and the evidence away Beckett made another call. This time it was to Lanie telling her that we were going to pay her visit to have a look at the body of Victor Fink.

An hour later Beckett and I were standing with a puzzled Lanie as she opened one of the freezers and pulled out the body of Fink from cold storage.

In the drive over to the morgue there was a heavy silence between Beckett and me at first. It did not take me long to put to voice my thoughts. I just could not believe that Jeremy was our killer. It did not sit right with me. Beckett said that the evidence was pointing to him. I had known her for long enough to see that she was just playing Devil's Advocate, because I did not think she believed that Jeremy could have done it. She was a cop and had to follow the evidence, whether she liked it or not. Another thing that made me think that she did not believe that Jeremy was our killer was the fact that we were heading to the morgue.

"Ballistics confirmed that the gun found in Jeremy's apartment was the same one that was used to kill Fink." Beckett explained. "And we just need to know if it's possible that Jeremy was the shooter."

"CSU did find gun residue on his coat." Lanie pointed out.

"Well that means he was shot at close range." Beckett retorted.

"Like, if Jeremy were holding the gun, struggled with Fink, Fink managed to turn the gun around and it went off?" I added.

Lanie nodded her head and pointed to the body.

"These abrasions on Fink's wrists are certainly consistent with that." she said.

"Well, then why would he have left the gun in his apartment?" Beckett asked, looking at me.

"Doc Holloway said he was probably in a fuge state." I replied. "Like sleep walking. He could have dropped the gun off, and then went out again."

Beckett frowned at that suggestion. Lanie looked even more confused than before. She look from me to Beckett.

"Okay, am I missing something? I thought you're supposed to be happy after you caught the killer."

We explained the reason for our unhappiness. That we did not think Jeremy was the killer. Lanie understood. She told us that she would go over the autopsy report again to see if she missed anything but she added not to get our hopes up on that score. Both Beckett and I thanked the medical examiner profusely as we headed out of the morgue.

XXX

Jeremy looked like a forlorn figure standing in the middle of the holding cell. Beckett was standing close to the wire looking at him. Beckett was a little forlorn too and I was not very far behind either.

"Why'd I do it?" Jeremy asked.

"We don't know why." Beckett said. "You'll be appointed a lawyer. I know Emma wants to help hire someone, and I don't think money will be an issue."

"Well, thank you." Jeremy said with a small smile.

Beckett was a little surprised.

"I don't know why you're thanking me, Mr Prestwick." She said. "We just arrested you for murder."

"Yeah, well it's not your fault. You guys have been nothing but incredibly nice to a babbling idiot who thought he was victim." Jeremy said "It's like I tricked you."

Beckett turned and slowly started to walk away.

"Good luck Jeremy." I said.

"Hey, if you figure it out, would you let me know?"

Beckett paused and turned to look back at Jeremy.

"Of course." Beckett said.

"I just think it would be easier, knowing why."

Beckett nodded her head then resumed walking out of the holding cells. I gave a final nod of goodbye to Jeremy and caught up with her. We walked in silence all the way back to her desk. She slumped down in her chair and stared at the screen saver on her computer while I remained standing. There really was not much we could say to each other.

"Go home, Castle." Beckett said finally, breaking the silence.

I frowned at her command but then nodded my head slowly. There was nothing else to be done here and I really did not want to watch Beckett doing paperwork. Watching Beckett doing paperwork is usually one of my favourite hobbies but tonight I was not really up for that. I gave her a nod goodbye and slowly walked out of the bullpen.

I headed home and disappeared in to my office. I sat at my desk and had fired up the laptop to do some work but I simply sat there staring at the screen. I was thinking about Jeremy. Eventually I hauled myself to bed but I found that I could not sleep. No matter how much I tried, sleep eluded me for quite a while.

XXX

The following morning I arrived in the bullpen and walking over to Beckett's desk I found it empty. Beckett was not there. Thinking she must have wandered off on some errand I decided I would make myself a coffee and bring one for her as well.

Entering the break room I was surprised to find Beckett sitting at a table nursing a cup of coffee. I could see that she was still looking unhappy and I did not need to ask her what was making her unhappy. I forgot about making myself a cup of coffee and joined her at the table instead. We sat in silence for a few minutes with me staring into space and Beckett staring down at her coffee. I finally broke the silence with the thoughts that had been going around in my head.

"The guy is guilty of a murder he can't remember. That just sucks." I said a little heatedly. "I mean, if you're going to kill someone, get caught, spend the rest of your life in prison, at least you have the satisfaction of knowing why you did it."

Beckett looked up from her coffee.

"Hatred. Revenge. Hell, maybe he even cut you off on the highway." I added. "But Jeremy won't have even that, even if we do find motive, because he won't remember why it meant anything to him."

"I'm with you, Castle. It sucks." Beckett said.

"So, what's next?" I asked.

"We, uh, submit the paperwork to the DA."

"But the DA will need motive, right?"

"Nope." Beckett replied. "Evidence speaks. Smoking gun."

"But don't you want to know why he did it?" I questioned.

"Yeah, but the truth is, that we don't need it."

I turned and placed my elbows on the table and looked at Beckett, leaning a little closer towards her.

"The DA doesn't need it." I said slowly. "But you and I? I know I couldn't sleep. Could you?"

Beckett stared at me for a couple of moments. I could see her answer writ large in her hazel eyes. Slowly she shook her head. I was pleased to see that she was agreeing with me. The next step was what to do. I suggested to Beckett that we visit Jeremy's apartment to see what me might be able to find there. Beckett go to her feet almost immediately.

Beckett unlocked the front door of Jeremy's apartment and entered. I was right behind her. Slowly we walked into the living room.

"There's got to be an answer here." I said. "Something in his life that makes it all make sense."

Beckett heard a noise and she quickly held up her hand to silence me. Her hand reached for her gun and drew it just as a door slowly opened off to our right.

"Hands! Show..!" Beckett yelled.

Emma Carnes let out a scream and dropped the box she had been carrying, raising her hands in the air.

"Oh, that gets the heart going." Emma gasped.

"Ms Carnes, what are you doing here?" Beckett demanded.

"Getting Lucy's things." Emma said.

Beckett holstered her gun and walked over the startled woman, I followed. Emma picked up a small plastic bottle.

"Prescription. Guess I got custody now." she added. Beckett bent down and picked up the box.

"I'm sorry to surprise you." Beckett said as she carried the box over to a nearby table. "We didn't know you'd be here."

Emma wiped tears from her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Beckett asked her.

Emma nodded her head. "Yeah. I guess I thought for half a second that this would be a bizarre second chance for Jer and me." A sad smile appeared on her face. "Stupid, right?"

"No, it's not stupid." I told her. "And to find out that he's a murderer..."

"When I saw him again, I...All those years of petty arguments that tore us apart didn't seem to matter. It was...it was like we first met. You know, I felt that thing. And then we came here, and I saw that he didn't sell it and I thought maybe he still had feelings for me too."

Beckett glanced in the direction where the painting was sitting and then looked back at Emma.

"Do you mean the painting the two of you bought on your honeymoon?" She asked.

All three of us moved over to where the painting was and we looked at it. Emma smiled a little.

Emma informed us that she and Jeremy had not bought the painting because they wanted to. They had to buy it. They had gone to the artist's studio in Siena and Jeremy was goofing around and he had picked up the painting off the easel. The artist went crazy when Jeremy had picked up the painting because it was still drying. Emma said that they had laughed for a week about their little love smudge. The smile faded a little when she went on to say that when she saw that he had not sold the painting, she thought that maybe that he was still harbouring feelings for her. But she was kidding herself she stated.

"What do you mean?" Beckett asked.

"No thumbprint." Emma explained, motioning to the painting. She moved close to the painting and with her thumb showed us where the love smudge had been.

"It should be right here." She said. "He sold ours. This one's a copy."

Beckett looked at Emma.

"Ms Carnes, are you sure?" She asked.

"Of course I'm sure." Emma replied.

Beckett turned to look at me.

"It's a fake." I declared.

"And we know who dealt in fakes." Beckett replied.

"That's got to be Jeremy's connection to Fink. That's got to be why Jeremy was at the gallery."

"And if Jeremy and Fink were arguing like Harun said, maybe it was over the original."

"And if that's a fake, then where is the original?" I questioned.

I suddenly felt energised. We had found a clue, something that just might clear Jeremy of the murder. I saw a gleam in Beckett's eye. The kind of look I had seen more than a few times when we had found a new lead on a case we were working.

Beckett and I headed out of the apartment once in the car she was immediately on the phone to the boys back at the precinct. She got them to track the whereabouts of a certain Middle Eastern attaché. The boys must have worked some magic in their locating work because they called back in ten minutes and advised us that the person in question was leaving his hotel and on his way to the airport. She ordered them to contact TSA to detain him if he arrived at the airport. As soon as she rang off we raced through the traffic to get to the hotel before he left.

Both Beckett and I exchanged smiles of triumph when we pulled up behind a limousine. The boot was open and the driver was putting in a large leather folio into the boot. The size of the folio was big enough to accommodate a painting. Our smiles grew even more when we saw Bahir Harun standing on the side walk talking on the phone.

The smile vanished from Beckett's face as she got out of the car and approached the limousine.

"Leaving us so soon, Mr Harun?" Beckett called out.

"Oh, what now?" Harun replied in an exasperated tone. "I have a plane to catch."

"Make any interesting art acquisitions on this trip?" I inquired as I joined Beckett.

"Actually, yes."

"Mind if we take a look?" I grinned.

"I'm sorry, I just don't have the time."

"Make time." Beckett said tersely.

"What part of diplomatic immunity are you not clear on?" Harun said.

Beckett walked closer to Harun and looked down on him, fixing him with one of her looks.

"See, every time you say something like that, it makes me think that you have something to hide." She told him.

"Well, it's too bad that you will never find out." Harun challenged.

I struggled to contain my glee. Bahir Harun was just another person who was about to find out what the consequences of messing with one Detective Beckett were.

"License and registration." Beckett said turning to look at the limo driver.

"What? Why?" The driver said in surprise.

"You are double parked." Beckett informed him.

"This is New York. Everyone double parks."

I looked from the driver to Beckett with a grin on my face.

"Is he resisting arrest?" I asked.

"I believe so." Beckett replied.

Beckett moved over and took the driver by the arm and pushed him against the side of the limousine. In next to no time she had whipped out her handcuffs and were snapping them around the driver's wrists.

"I'm going to have to search your car." Beckett added.

Leaving the driver standing by the side of the car cuffed, Beckett motioned Harun to follow her as she stepped to the back of the limousine and popped the trunk.

"You have no right to do this." Harun said.

"I don't see any diplomatic plates." Beckett remarked. "And immunity doesn't extend to a car service."

Beckett took hold of the folio and unzipped it. Opening it there was the unframed original Taglia painting. She turned and focused her gaze on Harun merely gave her a shrug of his shoulders. Beckett removed the painting from the trunk of the limousine and took it over to her car placing it in the back seat. While she was doing that I escorted Harun back to the side walk. Beckett joined us a moment later.

"Mr Harun, this can go either of two ways." Beckett said. "You can either cooperate and tell me what I need to know, or I can call the State Department and inform them that you have a piece of artwork that's at the centre of our murder investigation."

"And the last I checked, the New York tabloids could give a rat's ass about your diplomatic immunity." I added with a smirk. "They'll just print your photograph with the headline that says, 'Diplomatic Douchebag'.

"Fine." Harun sighed heavily. "What would you like to know?"

"There's a fake version of this painting found in one of our shooting victims' apartment. Can you tell us how it got there?" Beckett asked.

"How would I know?" Harun shrugged.

"Because the fake painting is where the real painting used to be. And now you have the real painting." I pointed out to Harun.

"All I know is that I asked Fink to acquire it for a client of mine." Harun said. "When he said he had it, I assumed he tracked down the owner and made a deal. But when I went to the gallery that evening, he sent me away. Just like I told you."

Beckett levelled a disbelieving look on the Bahraini diplomat.

"That's a great story, Mr Harun. But if Fink sent you away empty handed, why do you have the painting?"

"Because I got a call from a man this morning who said he had it for a price." Harun informed us.

That little piece of news had Beckett immediately interested. I was interested too.

"Who was it?" Beckett demanded.

"It was Fink's new assistant, Darius."

The driver was released from the handcuffs and given a warning about double parking and Bahir Harun had the thanks of the NYPD for his assistance in a murder investigation before he was allowed to catch his plane. Minus the Taglia painting, of course.

On the drive back to the precinct Beckett made a call to Esposito to get him to dig up anything and everything on Darius Langley. When she had finished her call I voiced a thought that popped into my head. How did Darius get into Jeremy's apartment?

Almost immediately we began to build theory as to how he could have done it. We had been discussing the matter for about five minutes or so before Beckett hit the nail on the head.

"The super!" She declared.

"The super?"

Beckett nodded her head. "Darius must have bribed him or something."

A smile leaped to my face and soon I was nodding my head in agreement.

Beckett made a detour and we headed to Jeremy Prestwick's building to pay a visit to the building's supervisor.

XXX

It was very late in the evening when Beckett and I walked into the interrogation room where Darius Langley had been sitting and waiting for a couple of hours. Beckett and I had been pretty busy from the moment we had brought in the building supervisor. Esposito had found some rather interesting information on Darius Langley. She had ordered the boys to bring him in.

Beckett did not bother to make any apologies to Darius for having kept him waiting for so long. She just sat down at the table and opened up her portfolio and looked across the table. If Beckett was not going to make any apology neither was I as I sat down beside Beckett.

There was no tiptoeing around the matter. Beckett came right out and asked Darius why he had killed Victor Fink. Darius, naturally enough, denied the accusation.

"This is crazy." Darius said. "I told you already, I was in class when Fink was killed."

"Nobody remembers seeing you there." Beckett said.

"I sat in the back."

"The naughty kids always do." I quipped.

"You were at the gallery that night Jeremy confronted Fink about the painting." Beckett informed him.

"Listen, there's obviously been some kind of misunderstanding."

"Was this a misunderstanding, as well?" Beckett said as she lifted the statement we had gotten out of the building supervisor. She turned it around and placed it in front of Darius so that he could see it.

"It's a signed statement from the super at Prestwick's building, admitting that he took a $1,000 bribe from you to allow you into Jeremy's apartment so that you could switch out the paintings."

I have to say that the building supervisor had not been the most talkative people I have ever come across. Yet Beckett has many a weapon in her arsenal to make people talk to her. The possibility of being charged with being an accessory to murder rapidly changed the man's mind and had him singing like a bird.

Darius looked down at the signed statement. His face twitched a little at being caught out. An apologetic expression appeared on his face.

"I'm sorry. Should've come clean from the start." Darius offered. "Fink wanted the painting. He told me to buy it from Prestwick, but the guy wouldn't sell. So Fink had me paint a fake, and yeah, I...I bribed the super to switch it with the real thing. It was stupid, but Fink threatened to fire me if I didn't."

Beckett shook her head.

"It was all you, Darius." She told him. "You switched out the paintings, you pocketed the money that Fink gave you to buy it."

"It was Fink." Darius insisted. "He manipulated me."

"No. That is just a lie." Beckett said. "And you know what else is a lie? Your name. Darius Langley is your room mate."

Darius looked a little startled at this revelation.

"Pretty smart using his identity to land a job at the gallery." I said with a grin on my face. "Well, I guess it'd be pretty tough to get hired with two felony counts of counterfeiting, isn't it, George?"

Darius's real name was George Heller. It was titbit of information that the boys had uncovered. Darius/George was now looking very uncomfortable under Beckett's steady gaze. He watched as Beckett picked up a sheet from her portfolio.

"You got quite the rap sheet, Mr Heller." She said.

I leaned closer and took a look at the rap sheet Beckett was holding.

"Mmm. One more strike, you go away for a long time." I added.

"Which is why you couldn't afford Prestwick calling the cops when he found out the truth." Beckett continued. "So you shot him. And then when he went down, you shot Fink, as well."

Darius/George looked from me to Beckett. There was an almost smug look on his face.

"Think you're gonna pin this murder on me? No way. You don't got jack." Darius/George shot back in a challenging almost cocky tone of voice.

"Read carefully." Beckett tapped the signed statement made by the building super. "You bribed the super twice. And the second time was four hours after Detective's Ryan and Esposito brought Prestwick to the gallery and you realised that he had lost his memory. You planted the gun."

Darius/George suddenly paled as he realised that there was considerable evidence against him. All of a sudden there was no sign of that cockiness that he had displayed just moments ago.

"Swing and a miss. Strike three. You're out." I smirked.

We spent a couple of more hours questioning him and then getting his statement. Then it took a little while to have him processed and on his way to Central Booking. As George Heller was hauled away Beckett and I shared a smile.

The next thing Beckett did was to get Jeremy Prestwick out of his holding cell. I have to say it is a good feeling seeing a wrongly accused man being released from jail. It is an even better feeling when you have helped to find the evidence to have that man released.

It was just after dawn when we congregated in the bullpen at Beckett's desk, Beckett, Ryan, me and Jeremy. Beckett had retrieved the Taglia painting from the property room and had handed it Jeremy.

"Ah. It's a beaut." Ryan remarked.

"Isn't it?" Jeremy smiled as he studied the painting he held in his hands.

"I especially love the thumbprint." Beckett remarked with a smile.

"Me, too. Even if I can't remember, it still feels a part of me." Jeremy said.

At that moment Emma Carnes walked into the bullpen. She had Lucy with her on a lead.

"Hey, Jer. Ready to rock?" Emma called out happily.

Jeremy rose to his feet.

"Thanks for coming he said." He said.

Beckett had taken the liberty of calling Emma to let her know that Jeremy had been released and that we had caught the right guy. Emma was only to happy to come in and collect Jeremy, despite the hour of the morning.

"You remember Lucy?" Emma said.

"No."

Jeremy bent down and petted the dog. Lucy responded to her master.

"She certainly remembers you." Beckett observed.

Jeremy rose to his feet and turned to look at us, smiling.

"Well, thanks guys. You made getting arrested for murder really not so bad. Thank you." Jeremy said.

He came over and shook our hands and then stepped back to where Emma was standing. I noticed that he was standing a little close to Emma. A thought came to me.

"So, are you two going to..."

"Castle." Beckett said in a sharp whisper. Looking at her I saw her shaking her head.

"It's okay." Emma said with a little laugh and a smile. "The answer is, who knows? I like him and he likes me. And right now, that's enough."

"Well, see you." Jeremy said as he and Emma started to move off. "I guess if I ever lose my memory again, I'll know where to come."

"I..." I stammered, looking a little confused.

"Thanks. Later." Jeremy laughed, realising what he had just said.

We watched as Jeremy and Emma walked out of the bullpen and headed in the direction of the elevator.

"One of them has fifteen years of baggage. Marriage. Divorce. The other's on a first date." Ryan observed. "How long you think that's going to last?"

"Hopefully for a long time." Beckett remarked.

I turned to look at Beckett.

"Why, Detective Beckett, I had no idea you were a romantic." I said with a smile.

Beckett glanced at me and grinned.

"I also sleep with a gun. Bet you didn't know that either." she retorted.

I noticed that Beckett did not deny my observation. I had always thought that behind that bad ass cop exterior there lurked a romantic somewhere. That she slept with a gun was good to know as well.

"How about you Castle?" Ryan asked. "How long do you think it will last?"

I slowly looked away from a grinning Beckett and watched the departing couple and could not help but smile.

"Well, I guess it's just the writer in me, but I'm hoping for a happy ending." I replied.

With the case closed and the bad guy now behind bars there was only the paperwork to be completed. That was a task that did not require my presence. We had worked through the night and now it was past dawn, the call of sleep was growing ever stronger. I bid Beckett and Ryan a good morning and set off for home.

A little while later I walked through the front door and found Mother sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Ooh! Well, well, well." Mother said, in way of greeting. "Look who's doing the walk of shame now."

"I was with Beckett." I replied as I walked towards the couch.

"Really?"

There was a hopeful tone in her voice, which if I didn't quite catch then the hopeful look on her face certainly gave away her thoughts.

"Uh, wrapping up a case." I explained quickly. I sat down beside her.

"Ah. Well, you should kiss that girl while you're both young." Mother said.

Don't think that the thought had not crossed my mind. It had more times than I could care to mention. That I had not up till now had more to do with my fears about how she would react. The last thing I wanted was to be shot at an angry homicide detective. I quickly changed the subject.

"What's going on with you?" I said. "What you got there?"

I had noticed that Mother was holding a flattened dry white rose. Something that people press into books as a way of preserving them. Mother was holding the rose by the stem.

"Oh, it's from Chet." Mother said. "Isn't it romantic?"

"Chet sent you a dead flower?" I replied with a little frown on my face.

"It's the most romantic thing that anyone has done for me."

"I've been up all night, so I might be a little slow."

"Well, it's the boutonniere I gave him, prom night." Mother explained as she regarded it with a smile on her face. "He saved it, tucked it into a yearbook, and he sent it over last night with a note saying, would I give...give him a second chance?"

"There's a lot of that going around these days." I remarked, gently.

"And I'm scared." Mother said with a sigh. "I mean, what if it doesn't work out? What if does?"

"That's the cost of living."

"I just don't want to ruin this."

I gently took the rose from Mother's fingers, despite her protestations and set it down on the coffee table.

"This is dead." I told Mother and turn to look her taking her by the hands. "You are not. Time to start making new memories."

Mother pulled back suddenly and shot me a look.

"Boy, how did you get so smart?" She asked.

"It must be my dad." I quipped.

Mother laughed as she knocked me on the head with her knuckles.

"Dad." She huffed.

I cringed at the light blow and laughed with her and then I pulled her into a tight hug and leaned back on the couch. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was being roughly shaken awake by Mother and told to haul myself off to bed.

XXXXX

_**So, there you have it the end of another case file. Let me know what you thought of it by dropping me a line. I'd love to hear from you.**_

_**Con **_


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The Case Of A Rose For Ever After

Part 1

Kyra Blaine was the first woman who I truly fell in love with. And for a while there she really did make the stars shine. When I was with her I could really see the future, I could see forever. Then one day she walked out of my life never to return. At least, that is what I thought until one particular day when a bride's maid was found murdered in a hotel room.

I had woken up early and immediately sat down at my desk and powered up the laptop. I called up the page which I had been working on the night before. I re-read the passage I had written. My fingers hovered over the keys in readiness to be the vehicles for the words that were about to flow from my sleep rested brain. I stared at the page mesmerised by the blinking cursor. It was taunting me mercilessly. I continued to stare at the page but no words would come forth.

I sat back in my chair but continued to stare at the page. I had spent most of yesterday afternoon and all evening working on this particular scene but everything I had written just did not seem right. I would discard the effort and start again only to have the same result. The scene was implausible. The thing that bothered me the most was that no one would believe it. My frustration levels were rising with each passing hour. By one am I finally gave up trying to write the scene. I figured a good night's sleep might help me to come up with what I needed. So I went to bed.

Now as I sat at my desk, refreshed from sleep I found I still could not think of a way to write the scene that would make it believable to my readers. I must have been sitting there for an hour or maybe longer until I heard my darling daughter out in the kitchen. Grateful for the interruption, I rose from the desk and went to greet her. I noticed she was dressed up to go out and I should have remarked upon it at that time but after greeting Alexis, a thought suddenly came to me how I could solve the problem of the scene.

I asked my darling daughter to duct-tape me to a chair. Alexis looked at me with a curious expression on her face. I'm sure the thought that I had lost my sanity might have crossed her mind. I quickly allayed her fears by telling her it was research for the scene I was writing for the Nikki Heat book. Relief swept across my daughter's face and then she smiled.

More than a few times Alexis has assisted me in the name of research. There was one time I had been stuck over a particular scene in a Derrick Storm book and as a way of putting my mind elsewhere Alexis suggested we play some laser tag. It was while I was rolling about the darkened living room avoiding Alexis' shots that the solution to the scene came to me. Alexis got me as I was running for the office to put down on paper the solution that had come to me. I did not mind that because after I had written down the scene with the solution to the problem that had been nagging me I emerged from my office eager to resume battle and won the next round.

It did not take my darling daughter too long to find a large roll of duct-tape. While she was doing that I selected one of the chairs from the dining room which I set down in the middle of the living room and then sat on it.

Alexis attacked the task with a little more enthusiasm that I thought was healthy but I chose not to remark on it.

"Make sure it's nice and tight." I told Alexis as she finished taping my ankles to the legs of the chair.

"Yes, sir." Alexis replied.

Mother came down the stairs and caught sight of what was going on in the middle of the living room.

"What on Earth are you two doing?" Mother exclaimed.

"Research." I informed her.

"Dad has Nikki Heat duct-taped to chair in his next chapter and he doesn't know how to get her out of it." Alexis explained.

"I thought, what better way to figure it out than to get into the mind of my character?" I added.

"I don't know, I suppose you could use your imagination." Mother helpfully suggested. I was not sure but I thought I detected a note of sarcasm in that helpful suggestion of hers.

"I want it to be authentic." I informed Mother.

Alexis had finished taping my legs.

"Hands." I told her.

"Well, hurry taping up your father. We don't want to be late." Mother said. "Oh, God, I can't believe I said that."

"Where are you two off to?" I inquired as one of my hands was taped to the arm rest of the chair.

"Gram's got a dress rehearsal." Alexis said. "I thought I'd go watch."

"Watch me? Or watch the adorable delivery boy in the second act?" Mother questioned knowingly.

My darling daughter gave me an embarrassed smile as her cheeks started to colour. I smiled back at her.

"Too tight?" Alexis asked.

I tried the bonds and found them just as I wanted them.

"Perfect." I said.

"Are you sure about the mouth?" Alexis said.

"Like I said, authentic." I told her.

Alexis nodded and then tore off a strip of duct-tape and quickly slapped it across my mouth.

"Mmm." I muttered.

"Nod if you're okay." Alexis said.

I nodded my head to show that I was alright.

"Okay, we're off." Alexis said as she leaned in and gave me a hug. "And after we might go shopping."

As my darling daughter broke off the embrace and stood up she held in her hands my wallet. The wallet which had been nestled in my back pocket, I might add. I had not even felt her lift it. My first reaction was to be proud of her. Pick pocketing had been a skill we had learned together a couple of years back when I had called in a professional to teach us. I needed to know about picking pockets for research purposes because of another scene that I had been having trouble with. Alexis and I had practised picking each other's pocket until we became rather accomplished at it.

Alexis opened my wallet, and pulled out a few bills of a large denomination.

"So, you don't mind, right?" Alexis said.

At that moment I thought a little parent control was in order and so, I frowned my displeasure in her direction.

"Oh, come on, Dad." My darling daughter said as she closed the wallet. We both know you'd have no respect for me if I didn't."

The severe frown dissolved. She was right.

"Have fun, and good luck." Alexis said as she leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. She turned and joined Mother as they started for the door.

"I don't know where she gets it from. Honestly, I don't." Mother remarked.

"Bye." Alexis called out.

"Adios." Mother chortled.

I was able to lift my right hand from the arm rest and waved at the departing figures of my Mother and daughter.

No sooner had the door closed that my phone started ringing. It was sitting on the coffee table which was located behind my chair. I craned my neck and saw the caller ID. It was Beckett calling. There must have been a body drop and she was calling me to let me know. But how to get over to the coffee table?

The answer came to me almost immediately. I rose on the balls of my feet and managed to walk and hop over to the coffee table. The phone continued ringing which made my actions a little more urgent. I managed to get close to the coffee table before sitting down. I then had the brilliant idea to tip myself over.

It worked a little too well because my face slammed onto the glass topped coffee table with more force than I anticipated. Ouch! Well, I would have said ouch, actually I would have yelled out the word but my mouth was tapped over and all that could be heard was a muffled cry of pain. The phone had stopped ringing and the call had gone to voicemail by the time I got over the pain of face planting on the coffee table.

XXX

For the next part of the story I am indebted to my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life.

Beckett rang off after having left a voicemail message and proceeded down the hallway of the hotel to where Detective's Esposito was standing.

"Victim is Sophie Ronson, 35." Esposito informed her. "She's in from LA for the wedding."

"Was she a guest?" Beckett asked.

"Mm-mmm. Bridesmaid." Esposito added.

Beckett and Esposito entered the hotel room where the body of Sophie Ronson lay on the floor.

"Bride came looking when Miss Ronson didn't show up for her hair and makeup." Esposito said. Found her stuffed in the armoire."

Dr Lanie Parish was beside the body making notes on her clipboard. Both Beckett and Esposito crouched down beside the body.

"What do you see?" Beckett said to her friend the medical examiner.

"Preliminary cause is asphyxiation." Lanie said. "And from the way her windpipe is crushed, I'd say the killer choked her from behind. We've got contusions on her throat, one of her earrings is missing. It looks like it was yanked from her lobe."

Lanie pointed to the victim's throat and then turned the head to show the ear lobe where the ring had been ripped off.

"We searched the room. The ring's not here." Esposito said.

"Get CSU to print a picture so that uniforms can start searching the hotel." Beckett ordered.

"Yeah." Esposito replied and rose from his crouch.

Beckett looked across to Lanie.

"Time of Death?" She asked.

"Based on temperature and lividity, I'd say between three and five am this morning." Lanie reported.

Beckett made a note in her portfolio and nodded her head.

"Thank you." Beckett said as she rose to her feet.

Beckett left the hotel room and walked back to the hallway where Esposito and Ryan were waiting for her. She looked at Esposito.

"Let's talk to hotel security." Beckett said. "I want to see surveillance tapes and a list of all registered hotel guests. And get records for her room and her cell."

"I'm on it." Esposito nodded.

Beckett started to walk down the hallway. Ryan fell into step beside her.

"Hotel says only one key card was issued to the victim." Ryan said consulting his note book. "It was last used to enter the victim's room at 3:18am."

Beckett came to a halt and looked at Ryan.

"Okay, well that coincides with time of death." she said. "Where are the bride and groom?"

Ryan pointed down the hallway.

"Bridal suite at the end of the hall. Uh, Greg and Kyra." Ryan replied.

Beckett nodded her head acknowledging the information.

"Okay, have uniforms assemble the wedding guests in the bar to be interviewed."

"Where's Castle?" Ryan asked.

Beckett shrugged. "I don't know. Figured the death of a bridesmaid would be right up his alley."

"Heard 'wedding' and probably got cold feet." Ryan smirked.

Beckett shot him an amused look before she resumed walking down the hallway to the bridal suite.

Beckett entered the bridal suite and found that there were a few people in there and more in an adjoining room. The bridal couple were impossible to miss. Kyra, a woman of average height was dressed in a white strapless wedding dress and her husband-to-be Greg, a tall man of average build, was dressed in a three piece grey suit. They were standing together in the middle of the room talking to themselves. Kyra was drying her tears while Greg was consoling her.

Beckett walked up to the couple and introduced herself and asked if they were up to answering a few questions. Both Kyra and Greg were willing to answer whatever question Beckett had.

"When was the last time you saw Sophie?" Beckett asked.

"At the rehearsal dinner last night." Kyra said. "I don't think I even talked to her. She came all this way for us, and I don't think I even said hello." Her breath caught as she fought back the tears.

"It's not your fault, Kyra. It was a crazy day." Greg assured her.

"Did you talk to her after I went to bed?" Kyra asked him.

"No. You know how Uncle Teddy is." Greg replied. "He wouldn't let me leave without doing tequila shots. I escaped to my room around one. I'm not sure if Sophie was still at the bar."

"The two of you weren't in the same room?" Beckett inquired.

"No." Kyra said.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding." Greg added.

Beckett allowed a small smile to reach her lips as she nodded her head in understanding.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about Sophie?" Beckett asked. "Was she in a relationship? Did she have any enemies?"

"I don't know." Kyra shook her head. "She lived in LA and we were never super close."

"Sophie introduced us." Greg explained with a smile. "She's the reason we're together."

"So, when we were planning the wedding, we thought she should be there." Kyra continued. "But the engagement party was the first time we'd seen her in a couple of years. And now she's dead. Who would do something like that?"

"That's what we're here to find out." Beckett replied.

Beckett had a few more questions for the couple and they provided what answers they could. Beckett thanked Kyra and Greg for their time and excused herself and left the bridal suite.

XXX

I managed to get myself off the coffee table and right myself. It took more than a few attempts but the end I did it. Once more in the upright position I began to think how to get myself out of the bonds. It required a few minutes of deep thought and then an idea came to me. The kitchen would be a very good place where I might find something to get myself out of this duct-tape.

Getting to the kitchen required quite a bit of effort. Once more I rose to the balls of my feet and in a crouch I walked and hopped towards the kitchen. It required more effort than I realised and I had to stop a couple of times just to catch my breath before I resumed the journey.

Finally I made it to the kitchen. Looking around my first thought was to go over to the drawers and get a knife but the more I thought about it the quicker I realised that that idea was not going to work. Discarding that idea I resumed looking about the kitchen.

My eyes fell to the trash can. Excitedly I hopped across to it and then manoeuvred myself until I was next to it. The first thing I needed to do was to remove the tape covering my mouth. I could use my mouth to grab things or if I became too desperate I could try and gnaw at the duct-tape securing my wrists to the arm rest of the chair.

Leaning as far as I could I began to rub the side of my face against the lid of the trash can trying to lift one of the ends of the duct tape stuck across my mouth. I worked at it for what seemed for ever but thankfully I managed to tease off enough of the end of the duct tape and secured it to the lid of the trash can. The next thing I did was to press down on the peddle of the trash can.

The trash can lid sprung open and tore off the duct-tape from my mouth. A millisecond later I let out a howl of pain. If you think ripping a bandage off a small wound is painful, try ripping a thick piece of duct tape from your mouth. You have no idea about the pain, let me tell you. It made my eyes water.

Recovering from the jolt of pain I turned my attention back to the trash can and peered into. My watery eyes lit up on finding an opened tin can with the lid still attached. It took a couple of attempts but I managed to tip the trash can over. I watched as the tin can I had my eyes on rolled across the floor. I had to hop across the kitchen over to where the tin can had come to rest.

To cut a long story short, I managed to extricate myself from my duct-tape bonds using the tin can. I had finally found the answer to the problem of getting Nikki Heat out of her duct-taped bonds. The book would have to wait though. I quickly cleaned up the kitchen and then raced into my bedroom to get dressed for going out. I then collected my phone from the coffee table in the living room and checked my voicemail. I got the location of the murder scene, and then I was running out of the loft and heading for the hotel.

It took me a little over half an hour to get down town to the hotel.

XXX

Esposito was standing at the security desk. The man behind the desk handed over a sheaf of papers to the detective. Esposito thanked the man and moved away from the desk over to where his partner was standing.

"Hotel security?" Ryan inquired.

"Yeah. They do background checks on all their employees." Esposito replied. "Seemed pretty sure there wasn't a killer among them, but he gave me the list. He's also pulling surveillance tapes. Good news is the elevators are all wired. Bad news is the stairwells and hallways aren't."

Ryan made a face and nodded his head.

It was at that moment when I made my appearance. I spotted the boys and walked over to them.

"Oh, look who it is." Ryan called out.

"We were about to send out a search party." Esposito remarked. "Where you been?"

"I got a little tied up with work." I replied.

Well, that was the truth, wasn't it? However, I certainly was not going to tell the boys that I had spent a fair chunk of the morning duct-taped to a chair and having to free myself using my own devices. They would not have heard that I was doing it in the name of research because they would have been laughing too much. I would never hear the end of it.

"Which way to the crime scene?" I asked.

"Sixth floor." Esposito said.

"Thank you."

I turned and started for the elevators.

"Hey, bro." Esposito called out. "Is that duct tape on your pants?"

I paused and looked behind me. On the cuff of my trouser leg there was a strip of duct tape which I had forgotten about.

"Hmm. Yes. Yes it is." I said.

I quickly ripped off and continued walking.

I stepped into an elevator and the boys followed me in. As soon as the doors closed and we had pressed the button for the sixth floor both Ryan and Esposito turned to look at me and asked me why I had duct tape stuck to my trouser leg. I explained that it was part of the research I was doing for the latest book I was writing and left it at that. It did not look like that they bought that but thankfully the elevator was rather fast and we reached the sixth floor before they tried to pry a better explanation out of me.

I let out a silent sigh of relief as we stepped out of the elevator.

"So, bridesmaid, huh?" I said as the three of us started down the hallway. "Wouldn't get caught dead in that dress?"

"They're really not that bad. A subtle mauve chiffon." Ryan remarked.

I looked past Esposito and over to Ryan. Esposito too looked at his partner.

"Dude, really? Mauve?" He said, frowning.

"What? I have sisters." Ryan said, rising to his own defence. "You should have seen their dresses. Hideous."

"Ah, bridesmaid dresses are supposed to be hideous." I explained to my two companions. I smiled on seeing Beckett approaching.

"Really? Why?" Esposito asked.

"So the bride looks more beautiful in comparison." Beckett informed us. I smiled at Beckett a little more.

"Ah, see? Not a woman alive who doesn't think about her wedding day, not even Kate Beckett." I said. "Tell me you never tore a picture of a wedding gown out of a magazine?"

Beckett leaned towards me.

"I've never torn a picture of a wedding gown out of a magazine." She said and then turned and started to walk away.

"You're lying." I called out. I then turned and looked at the boys. "She's lying."

"Mm-hmm." Ryan nodded his head, grinning knowingly.

Mind you when Beckett was denying to me she had ever torn out a picture of a wedding gown from a magazine, she had a small smile on her face.

The boys and I followed Beckett to the bridal suite.

My attention was drawn to the bride who was standing a little away. She had her back to me talking to someone. I glanced at Ryan.

"So, who's the unlucky bride?" I asked in a low voice as I looked over to the bride in question.

"Uh, her name is..."

At that moment the bride in question turned around and my breathing stopped.

"Kyra?" I said.

"Rick? Rick Castle." Kyra said, breaking into a smile that I remembered all too well.

"You two know each other?" Beckett asked with some surprise.

"That would be an understatement." I replied.

Of all the bridal suites in all the world I had to walk into hers. Kyra Blaine. The woman who broke my heart. The woman who walked out on me and I thought I would never see again. Kyra Blaine standing before me. For a moment it felt as if I had gone back in time.

Slowly I approached her and she took a couple of steps towards me.

"I read somewhere that you were working with the police, but I...I never would've expected to...How long has it been?" Kyra said.

"Too long." I smiled.

"You look exactly the same."

"And you've improved."

Kyra smiled at that.

"You always did know how to turn a phrase." She said. The smile on her face faltered. "This is so surreal. It's my wedding day and you show up."

"Castle." Beckett said, coming over to me. "Lanie's got something for us."

I could not drag my eyes off Kyra. It was like I was seeing a vision before my eyes and I was afraid to look away lest the vision disappeared.

"I'll catch up." I replied, still staring at Kyra. Old memories began to be dredged up.

"Hmm...Okay." Beckett muttered.

XXX

For the next part of the story I have to thank Dr Lanie Parish.

Beckett came into the room where the body of Sophie Ronson had been found. Lanie's people had now transferred the body from off the floor and onto a gurney.

"What did you find?" Beckett asked as she approached Lanie.

"Once I turned her over, I saw these abrasions across her upper back." Lanie replied. She carefully turned the body on its side and pointed to the abrasions she had found. "They were definitely made before she died, probably during the struggle."

Beckett peered at the abrasions for a couple of moments before she looked over to the medical examiner.

"Any idea what made them?" She asked.

"No, but there's an odd shape to them. I'll have a better idea once I get her back to the lab."

"Okay."

"So, how's everything going in the bridal suite? Not the day they planned." Lanie said.

"Yeah, or the surprise guest." Beckett sighed. She turned and looked at Lanie. "Apparently, Castle has a history with the bride."

"Ancient, modern or sexual?" Lanie retorted.

"Seems like all of the above."

"You okay with that?"

Beckett looked at her friend with a puzzled look. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Lanie gave her friend a pointed look.

Beckett rolled her eyes.

"Just keep me posted on the labs." Beckett ordered and marched out of the room.

"Mm-hmm."

XXXXX


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

The Case of A Rose For Ever After

Part 2

"So what happened to the girl who said that marriage was a Jurassic institution?" I inquired.

I could still remember the debates we used to have about marriage. We would debate for hours over wine, with Kyra against the institution and me arguing for it. At first it had been an intellectual exercise that we had started but the longer I was with her it turned into something far more for me. I had been so in love with her that I had started contemplating asking her to marry me.

It was not the only thing we would discuss. We discussed a lot of things. How we would change the world or put it to rights. The usual things that young adults at that age would talk about.

"She grew up." Kyra replied in answer to my question and breaking me away from my thoughts.

"Hmm. Does that mean the groom is all grown up too? All work and no play?"

"No. He plays just enough."

I could not help but smile.

"He's a lucky man." I said in a low and envious voice.

The smile faded from Kyra's face. "Except today. All the things you worry about going wrong at your wedding..."

"Sorry." I said and then reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

At that moment Kyra's intended, Greg walked up to us.

"Hey, honey." Greg said.

"Greg, this is Rick Castle." Kyra said doing the introductions.

"Rick Castle, your ex?"

Greg's gaze shifted from Kyra's face to where my hand was resting on her shoulder. He did not seem all that pleased to see where my hand was resting. Quickly I removed my hand.

"Oh. Yes. No." I stammered. I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you."

We shook hands.

"Rick's working with the police now." Kyra informed him.

"Do you think the murderer is still in the hotel?" Greg asked me.

"Well, that depends on whether the attack was random or someone knew her." I replied. I surprised myself at the response I gave. I was sounding like a cop.

"So, you think one of the guests could've killed her?" Kyra asked.

"We have to consider every possibility." I replied.

"You'll have to excuse us." Greg announced. "We have people arriving downstairs."

"Of course." I said.

I watched as Kyra and Greg left the bridal suite as Beckett walked back in. She walked over to me.

"Kyra Blaine. Wow." I muttered.

"I take it she was someone special." Beckett remarked, looking at me.

"She's the one that got away." I said wistfully.

XXX

While Beckett and I were still upstairs in the bridal suite, Esposito and Ryan and a few uniforms were interviewing the family and invited guests that had been assembled down in the bar. Names and addresses were taken down as well as answers to the question of what the guest's relationship to the bride and groom was. In response to the question of who might of killed Sophie Ronson the answers received were a 'no'.

While speaking to Keith Murphy, the brother of the groom, Ryan was told that Keith had heard that Sophie almost did not come to the wedding. Sophie had called Kyra and tried to back out of being a bridesmaid.

When Ryan was speaking to Laurie Hill, the maid of honour, he was told the same story about Sophie calling up to try and get out of coming to the wedding. Laurie added that she had heard that Sophie had called back to say that she had changed her mind and would indeed be coming to the wedding.

Sheila Blaine, Kyra's mother, was more than happy to tell Ryan when he was interviewing her, that Sheila had warned her daughter that Sophie was too unreliable to be put in a wedding party. Sheila was affronted that her daughter did not listen to her.

Having interviewed all the assembled guests Ryan and Esposito retreated over to the bar to compare notes.

"That's everyone, right?" Esposito asked.

"I think so." Ryan replied as he consulted the guest list he had in his hand. "Wait, there's a groomsman that's not checked off. Mike Weitz."

Esposito checked his notebook.

"Mmm. I don't talk to him. You?" Esposito said.

"No." Ryan replied.

Esposito and Ryan turned away from the bar and faced the gathered guests. Esposito turned his attention to Keith Murphy.

"Mr Murphy, have you seen, Mike Weitz?" He called out.

"No, actually." Keith replied shaking his head.

"Has anyone seen Mike Weitz?" Ryan called, out addressing the other guests.

"Oh, God. He was with Sophie at the rehearsal dinner." Lauren Hill announced, with some shock.

"She's right. I saw them together in the bar after." Ted Murphy, Greg's uncle, said.

"You don't think something happened to him, too, do you?" Keith said with growing concern.

XXX

Ryan and Esposito arrived in the bridal suite where Beckett and I were to report their finding. Beckett and I were standing by a table where there was a large glass bowl sat holding all the guests' digital cameras had been collected. Later on we were going to go through the footage to see what we could find out. I was playing with one of the cameras while talking to Beckett but I returned it to the glass bowl on the arrival of the boys.

"None of the guests have seen Mike since last night." Ryan informed us.

"We checked his room." Esposito added. "The bed's made, his tux is still hanging in the closet and his key card shows his last entry at 2am."

"2pm, alright." Beckett said slowly. "Any signs of foul play?"

"No." Ryan shook his head. "But his toothbrush and bags are still here."

"Have hotel security start searching the premises." Beckett ordered.

"You think we're going to find another body?" I inquired.

"More likely, Mike's our killer, and he ran off after strangling Sophie." Beckett replied. She looked over to the boys. "So, put an APB out, get Mike's photos to all airports and train stations."

Esposito pulled out his phone to put out the APB.

"I'll check back with the wedding guests. See if I can get a clearer picture of Mike and Sophie's interactions." Ryan suggested.

"Okay, thank you." Beckett said.

Ryan had been standing next to me when the boys had been making their report. He started to move away to go and speak to the guests again when I suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"Or we could watch last night's festivities for ourselves." I announced as I nodded to the bowl sitting on the table. "On these handy-dandy digital video cameras."

There was almost a look of relief of Ryan's face when I pointed out the digital cameras. I got the impression that he did not want to go back down to the guests again. Being the resident tech guy of our team it fell to Ryan to find a TV and then hook up the cameras so that we could go over the vision that the guests had captured during the rehearsal dinner.

Beckett, the boys and I gathered around the TV that Ryan had found and started watching the first of the tapes.

"_There we are, running for our lives, right?"_

"That's Mike giving the speech." Beckett said.

Mike Weitz was aged in his early thirties, tall and of average build. On the video he was swaying on his feet as he moved to the table where Kyra, Greg and Keith were seated. In his hand was a half empty glass of champagne and from the looks of things that champagne was not the first he had for the evening.

"_Greg had too much to drink..."_ Mike said to much laughter.

The video pulled back and showed Sophie sitting at the table nearest to where the happy couple were.

"And that's Sophie looking away from us." I pointed out.

"_Surfing tide! And that's when...and that's when Keith decides..."_

There was more laughter as Mike placed a hand on Keith Murphy's shoulders. An embarrassed looking Keith Murphy I might add. Obviously the speech that Mike was giving had poor old Keith as the butt of the story much to amusement of the other guests to the rehearsal dinner. Amongst the laughter there was a cell phone ringing. We saw Sophie answering her phone.

"_...he's gonna slow down a little bit , so grabs a fire extinguisher."_

"Who takes a call during a speech?" Ryan questioned.

"Right? Rude." I remarked.

"Wonder who she's talking to." Esposito added.

As we watched the speech with Mike continuing with his speech we saw Sophie put her phone away and slowly rise from her chair and slowly start to make her way out.

"Pause that." Beckett ordered. "Does anyone else find it odd that Sophie would leave in the middle of Mike's speech?"

"Maybe whoever called wanted to meet." Esposito suggested.

"Yeah but who?" I said. "Everyone at the rehearsal dinner is sitting in the room."

Beckett rose from her seat and took a couple of steps towards the TV.

"According to the time code, that call came in at about 7:41" She announced.

Ryan quickly opened his portfolio and consulted Sophie's phone records. Esposito looked over his partner's shoulder and pointed out something on the records.

"Sophie's cell phone history shows the call came from the hotel lobby." He announced.

"Check with hotel, see if they have any security cameras covering the phones." Beckett ordered.

The boys nodded their heads and quickly left the bridal suit and headed down stairs to the security desk. They discovered that the hotel did indeed have cameras covering the phones and within minutes the gut sitting behind the security desk was able to print up several photos off the security video footage of the man who had made the call to Sophie Ronson. He passed the photos to Esposito who took them to where Ryan was standing.

The two detectives took a look at the photos.

"Wait a minute." Ryan said as he pointed to the close up shot of the man who had been on the phone. "I know this guy. Gamble, Boyd Gamble."

"So, he's a dealer?" Esposito asked.

"Mostly weed and coke back in the day." Ryan informed his partner. "Did a couple of years for assaulting another dealer who was trying to muscle in on his turf. Beat him up real bad, too."

"Sounds like he's got a bad temper. Maybe he graduated to murder." Esposito suggested.

XXX

For the next little part of this story, I thank my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life.

Beckett was making her way down the hallway towards the elevator when she had received a call from Esposito informing her about what they had found concerning Boyd Gamble. The elevator arrived and the doors opened.

"Great. Go pick him up." Beckett ordered and then stepped into the elevator.

Beckett was a little startled to find Krya Blaine standing there.

"Was that about Mike?" She asked.

"Uh, no. Just following up on a lead." Beckett informed her, as she put her phone away and stood beside the bride to be as the elevator commenced to move.

There some moments of awkward silence with neither woman knowing what to say. Beckett glanced at Kyra and smiled.

"Your dress is lovely, by the way." She said.

"Oh, thank you so much." Kyra smiled. "I...it's Kate, right?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like I know you a little."

Beckett looked at Kyra with a questioning expression.

"From the Nikki Heat dedication." Krya explained.

"Oh." Beckett nodded her head.

"I still read all of Rick's books."

"Yeah, well most of that book is a result of Castle's over active imagination." Beckett said.

"It's funny that you call him that, 'Castle'" Kyra said with a smile. "When I knew him, he was just 'Rick' fresh off his first best seller."

Beckett smiled at the other woman. Kyra glanced at the floor level indicator above the doors as the elevator arrived at the floor. Slowly she turned to look at Kate and smiled at the detective.

"Well, over active imagination or not, I know that he only dedicates his books to people he really cares about."

Kyra nodded and then stepped out of the elevator leaving a surprised looking Detective Kate Beckett.

XXX

I am indebted to both Detectives Ryan and Esposito for the next part of the story.

It did not take the boys too long to locate Boyd Gamble and pick him up. He now found himself sitting in the interrogation room seated across from Ryan. Esposito was perched on the table close to Gamble.

"Murder?" Gamble exclaimed in response to the accusation levelled at him. "What are you, nuts?"

"We know you met Sophie at the hotel, Boyd." Esposito told him. "Couple of hours later, she turns up dead. You want to tell us how that happened?"

"She met me in the park. We had a mutual acquaintance who recommended my services. She knew I could get her what she needed."

"Why didn't you just sell her the drugs and be done with it?" Ryan asked. "Why did you show up at the hotel?"

"Because she wanted a speciality item." Gamble explained. "I didn't have any on me, so I told her I'd call her when I did."

"What speciality item?" Esposito demanded.

Gamble turned away from Esposito's gaze.

"Flunitrazepam." Gamble said.

Esposito looked across to his partner for an explanation.

"Roofies?" Ryan said with a little surprise.

Esposito left the interrogation room and made a call to Beckett to inform her what they had been told by Boyd Gamble.

XXX

Beckett rang off and put away her phone. She turned and looked at me as walked down the hallway.

"Why would a bridesmaid need roofie?" She asked.

I frowned as I considered the question she posed.

"You want to take advantage of a guy, knocking him unconscious kind of defeats the purpose." I replied a moment later. "Best way? Just ask."

That last bit resulted in my being on the receiving end of a classic Beckett eye roll. My attention was drawn to an older woman a short distance away. If there was some good that came from Kyra walking out of my life it was that I would not have to see this woman again. She was the kind of woman who could make a wicked witch cry. It may sound like I'm over exaggerating, but let me tell you, if you ever met her you would understand what I mean.

"Hello, Sheila." I said.

Sheila turned around. The smile on her face instantly vanished the moment she laid eyes on me.

"Richard. Figures you'd be at the heart of this mess."

I ignored the barbed arrow that was hurtled at me and I fixed a tight smile on my face. I looked across to Beckett.

"Detective Beckett, this is Sheila Blaine, mother of the bride." I said introducing the women. Beckett nodded her greetings. I turned to look at Sheila. "So, I guess I didn't end up homeless or teaching in a third rate college in New Hampshire."

It used be one of Sheila's favourite cutting remarks she made to me, that I would end up homeless or teaching at a college in New Hampshire. Every chance she got she let me have it. I put up with those remarks for the sake of Kyra but they were hurtful.

"There is still time." Sheila said cuttingly.

"I've missed our special talks." I remarked. I glanced at Beckett. "Sheila didn't approve of struggling artists."

Beckett nodded her head. I looked at Sheila.

"You must like Greg, though." I told her. "He's from money, right?"

"It was never about the money, Richard. It was about character. And you would know that, if you had any." Sheila said condescendingly. She turned and walked away.

It seems that Sheila had not changed one little bit over the years and if anything she had gotten worse.

Beckett had a stunned look on her face having been a witness to our little exchange.

"Wow." She gasped. She glanced at me. "Just imagine, if things had worked out, you'd be spending Thanksgivings with her."

Beckett's phone started ringing and she quickly answered it.

That was a horrifying thought indeed. Suddenly I shuddered visibly.

"Okay, great." Beckett said and rang off. She looked across to me. "They think they found Mike. Come on."

I quickly shook of the visions of having to spend Thanksgiving with Sheila Blaine and ran to catch up with Beckett who was setting a rapid pace towards the elevators.

Mike Weitz had been located in a closet a couple of floors below the bridal suite. A hotel manager was using a key card to unlock the closet door as Beckett and I approached. We could hear Mike banging on the door and yelling to be let out. Once the door was opened Mike Weitz sprung forward.

"Where's that bitch, Sophie? I'll kill her." Mike shouted.

I glanced at Beckett. "Timing very poor."

"What happened?" Beckett asked Mike.

"That little freak drugged me." Mike said angrily.

Beckett and I escorted Mike upstairs and took him up to the bridal suite. He sat down on the edge of the bed and accepted a large glass of water which he downed pretty quickly.

"Alright, Mike. Walk me through what happened with you and Sophie last night." Beckett said.

"She came on to me is what happened." Mike replied. "Acted all flirty, brought me a drink."

"A drink spiked with roofies." I said.

"Yeah. Nuts, right?" Mike said looking up at me. "I mean, who roofies a guy? All a girl has to do is ask."

"Hmm." I murmured as I looked at Beckett, smirking.

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Did the two of you have a history?" Beckett asked turning her attention to Mike sitting on the bed.

"No. I...I saw her last year at Greg and Kyra's engagement." Mike said. "She was definitely the kind of girl you noticed. But, uh, no, I...I don't think we so much as talked."

"Any idea why she would drug you?" I asked.

"No clue." Mike shook his head.

"Did she seem angry, nervous or scared?" Beckett asked him.

Mike shook his head. "No. She seemed determined." He replied. "Guess I should've known it was too good to be true, huh?"

I nodded my head in agreement but wisely refrained from saying anything.

"If you can think of anything else, let us know." Beckett told him.

"Okay."

Beckett and I left him sitting in the bedroom and walked into the adjoining room. A couple of the guests who had been hovering in the background while Beckett and I were speaking with Mike now moved forward to check on his to see that he was alright.

"What was Sophie up to last night?" Beckett asked in a low voice.

"She went out of her way to get those drugs, she definitely had a plan." I replied.

"To roofie Mike and lock him in a closet? What kind of bizarre plan is that?"

I thought over Beckett's questions.

"Maybe...No, I got nothing." I admitted.

Beckett frowned a little at that response. I frowned too, a little unhappy that I could not come up with something that might help this case. Normally when we're faced with such an impasse in a case I usually resort to my standby theories involving three letter government agencies. I decided not to bring them up here and now. I don't think Beckett would have appreciated it.

I notice Beckett's gaze turn to the other end of the room. I saw the look of surprise that appeared on her face. Following her gaze I saw Esposito and Ryan standing there each with a small plate that was filled with appetisers that they had snagged from a passing waitress. They immediately started stuffing their faces.

Beckett crossed the room to where they were standing and I followed her.

"What are you guys doing?" Beckett asked.

"I haven't eaten all day." Esposito replied with a mouthful of food.

"Oh." Beckett said.

"These potato pancakes are incredible."

Beckett turned to look at Ryan.

"Do you know what else is incredible?" She said as she took the plate from Ryan's hand and passed it over to me. Then she took Esposito's plate of food and that too was passed to me.

"How much information we're going to find once we start investigating our victim's life." Beckett punctuated the remark with a glare that was directed to the boys.

"I want to know everything about Sophie Ronson from the moment that her plane landed in New York till the moment she was found dead." She added. "Who she called, what she did and where she ate."

The boys swallowed the last of the food in their mouths nodded their heads and quickly moved off. Beckett pulled out her phone and dialled a number. She moved off in another direction and started to speak the person who had answered her call.

"This is Detective Beckett. I need a warrant on financials on a Sophie Ronson...Yeah. In about an hour."

I was left standing on my own holding two plates filled with food. I placed both plates on a tray that a passing waitress was carrying. For a moment I did not know what to do with myself. Looking about I noticed that Kyra was not in the bridal suite. Obviously she had gone somewhere quiet and where she would not be bothered by family or friends.

Wondering where she might have gotten to I quickly realised where she might have gotten to. As I was needed here in the bridal suite I headed out.

A few minutes later I pushed open the door to the reception room and slowly entered. The room was decorated in readiness for the reception that would not be taking place. There were roses in large vases lining the entrance into the room. From the ceiling was an ornate chandelier. The tables were covered in fine white linen with beautiful flower arrangements sitting in the middle of each table. Directly in front of me standing near the dance floor was a table and sitting on the table was a tiered wedding cake. On either side of the wedding cake were a couple of tall vases filled with white and pink roses.

Taking in the scene here in this room brought back memories of a couple of weddings that I had participated in a long time ago. I shook off those now painful memories. I did not wish to dwell on them.

From behind the cake Kyra popped her head. She was holding up her finger which was covered in frosting.

"Couldn't let it go to waste." Kyra said. She stuck her finger in her mouth and licked off the frosting she had scooped from the wedding cake. "How did you find me?"

Slowly I approached her.

"I just figured, what was the one place where no one would think to look for you?" I replied.

"At a wedding?"

I reached where Kyra was standing.

"At your wedding." I said. "Where's..."

"Greg." Kyra supplied.

"Right."

"He's taking care of things." Kyra said. "He's good at that."

I watched as Kyra cut a slice of the bottom tier of her wedding cake and placed it on a small plate. She passed the plate to me.

So, if you don't get married, is it just a regular old cake?" Kyra asked.

"It's still a wedding cake." I replied. "It's tiered, got flowers, it's in a ballroom."

Kyra nodded her head. She turned and walked away from the wedding cake. I watched her as she slowly turned around.

"If things had gone as planned today, I would be twirling around on the dance floor with my husband right about now."

"Do you remember the last time we danced?" I asked her.

Kyra looked at me with a small smile on her lips.

"Under the clock at Grand Central Station."

I should not have been surprised that she had remembered. It had been the last time I saw her. As we had danced around to the music we could only hear, she had never looked so happy and carefree and yet sad all at the same time.

"You were on your way to JFK to catch a flight to London." I pointed out.

The smile faded from Kyra's face.

"You were supposed to follow me."

"You said you needed space."

"I didn't mean forever." Kyra sighed.

Hearing Kyra say that caused a wrench to my heart. It was an effort not show my true feelings on my face. I seemed to recall her going away was for good. She had never indicated that I was supposed to follower her. If she did, I misread the signs.

Kyra started to walk towards me. A small smile returned to her face when she reached me.

"So, you've done all this before?" She said motioning to the room.

"Twice." I replied.

"And each time, did you think that she was the one?"

Both times I did think they were the one. I married Meredith and Gina for different reasons but yes, I did think they were the one. It was only later that I realised I had been wrong, twice.

"It seemed like the right thing to do." I said in a low voice.

"But it wasn't, was it?"

Slowly I shook my head.

"Some girls would think what happened today is a sign."

"The murder?" I asked.

"And you."

"Castle?"

I was startled by the sound of Beckett's voice. Turning around I found her standing close by. I had not even heard her walk in.

"We're on our way out. I thought you might need a ride." Beckett informed me.

"I should go upstairs." Kyra said, with an apologetic smile. "They'll be looking for me."

I watched Kyra as she moved off. She shot a brief smile in Beckett's direction and then quickly left the reception room. I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness. There had been a moment just now where I wanted to take Kyra in my arms and kiss her.

Sensing that Beckett was staring at me I turned to look at her and saw the soft smile on her face as she regarded me. Realising I was still holding the plate with the slice of wedding cake I lifted it up a little.

"Cake?" I asked her.

"No, thank you." Beckett said gently. She turned and started walking out of the room. I put the plate back on the table and followed Beckett.

Beckett and I were in the elevator heading down to the ground floor lobby. We stood side by side in silence. I caught her glancing at me a couple of times.

"We met in college." I announced, breaking the silence. "We were together nearly three years."

"I didn't ask." Beckett replied.

"Yes. You were not asking very loudly."

I will give Beckett credit for not coming right out and asking me about my relationship with Kyra but I could sense her curiosity. I guess I owed her an explanation because sooner or later I knew she would ask me.

"She's different from your ex-wives." Beckett said.

I cast a glance in Beckett's direction.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She's real. I didn't think you went for real."

I lapsed into silence. Seeing Kyra again after so many years had conjured up a number of emotions and a lot of painful memories. I was not exactly in the mood to talk.

Beckett must have seen the pained expression on my face.

"Tough break up?" She asked, gently.

Thankfully the elevator arrived at the ground floor and the doors slid open.

"It was a long time ago." I told her and quickly walked out of the elevator.

Beckett caught up with me as we walked through the lobby. Once we got into Beckett's car I asked if she could drop me off home.

XXXXX

_**Thoughts? Drop me a line to let me know what you though.**_

_**Con **_


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

The Case of A Rose For Ever After

Part 3

Once again I am indebted to Dr Lanie Parish for her assistance for the next part of the story.

Early the following morning Beckett came strolling into the morgue to see Lanie. She had received a summons from the medical examiner.

"Hey." Beckett said as entered the autopsy room.

Lanie was at the autopsy table where the body of Sophie Ronson was laid out.

"Hey." Lanie replied.

"You called?" Beckett prompted.

"Yes. I found traces of metal in the abrasions on Sophie's back." Lanie reported.

"What kind of metal?" Beckett asked.

"I have no idea. But I sent a sample over to the FBI lab to see if they can narrow down the chemical signature. We should have the results by tomorrow."

Beckett nodded her head.

"If I find the object that made the wounds, you'll be able to match it?" Beckett asked.

"Absolutely." Lanie confirmed.

"Great." Beckett said. "Anything else?"

"You tell me." Lanie said, giving her friend a pointed look.

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me." Lanie said. "Castle's lost love."

"Yeah, what about it?" Beckett said a little defensively.

Lanie looked at her friend and then shook her head.

"Girl, I'm gonna smack you. You work side by side everyday. He writes a sex scene in his book about you that had me reaching for ice water." Lanie said trying to contain her exasperation. "Now Little Miss Bride shows up. Don't tell me your not the least bit jealous."

Beckett rolled her eyes and shook her head at her friend.

"Oh, please. You've been inhaling too many autopsy fluids." Beckett said as she head out of the autopsy room.

"Honey, just because you can't see what's going on, doesn't mean everybody else doesn't see what's going on!" Lanie shouted as her rapidly departing friend.

"Shut up!" Beckett shouted back.

Beckett left the morgue and headed for the precinct. On arrival in the bullpen she found Esposito and Ryan sitting together. They were both looking at a book that Esposito was holding.

"There's a lot of detail in this love scene." Esposito remarked.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan muttered.

Beckett came up behind them and paused looking at the two detectives and what they were doing. A frown settled on her face.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be running background checks?" She asked.

"We are." Esposito said, turning around to look at Beckett.

"On the bride." Ryan added. "All day yesterday, I kept feeling like I'd heard the name Kyra Blaine before. Then it hit me."

Esposito held up the book for Beckett to see. She recognised the book.

"The dedication of Castle's second book, _A Rose For Everafter._" Ryan informed her.

Esposito opened the book to the dedication page.

"For Kyra Blaine, you make the stars shine." He read out.

Beckett shook her head at the two detectives.

"When I'm not here, do you guys braid each other's hair and debate who's the coolest Jonas brother?" She asked and then moved off.

"No." Esposito said. "But it's totally Nick."

"Absolutely Nick." Ryan agreed.

"Yeah, Kevin is the talented one."

"Yeah, Nick is the cute one. Joe?" Ryan shrugged his shoulders.

Beckett had walked past her desk and reached the murder board. She picked up a marker and leaned down and started to add a note to the time line that had been drawn on the board. She noted the time on the line about Mike's Weitz's missing key card.

The elevator bell announced the arrival on the floor and once the doors opened I jumped out.

"The key card." Beckett said suddenly and straightened up.

"Mike's key card!" I shouted across the bullpen in a breathless tone.

On reaching home last night I had wallowed in painful memories of things that might have been and in my misery. I could have done that all night, I might have even drowned my sorrows with alcohol but I decided not to do that. Instead I thought about the case. Some time around midnight a thought came to me. I almost reached for the phone to call Beckett but remembering what time of the night it was. Wisely I managed to restrain myself. Instead I made a mental note to speak to her come the morning and then headed off to bed.

Come the morning the more I thought about what had come to me the night before the more excited I had become and riding up in the lift I could hardly contain my excitement, hence the reason why I shouted across the bullpen as I rushed out of the elevator. Actually, I raced down the block to get to the precinct after getting out of the cab so hence being out of breath when I dashed out of the elevator.

I raced over to where the boys were sitting, trying to catch my breath as Beckett turned to look at the boys and me.

"Hotel records indicate Mike's key card last accessed his hotel room at 2am yesterday morning." She announced.

"Only he was busy passed out in the supply closet with a belly full of roofies." I pointed out.

"So, who swiped into Mike's room?" She questioned.

Who indeed. Beckett and I could have stood there building theory but Beckett had a better idea. Field trip back to the hotel.

XXX

Beckett and I were walking along the corridor following a bellhop as we made our way to Mike Weitz's room.

"Mike said his key card was missing when he woke up." I remarked.

"Sophie must have stolen it." Beckett replied. "But why?"

I had no answer to that question but hopefully we would soon find out once we took a look around Mike's apartment.

The bellhop reached the room and swiped the key card through the slot unlocking the door. He opened the door and then stepped aside.

"Thank you." Beckett said to the bellhop and entered the room. I followed Beckett in.

The outer room we found ourselves in was similar to most of the others on the floor, nicely decorated. I started to look around.

"Didn't uniforms already search this room when he went missing?" I questioned.

"Yeah. Mike said he didn't notice anything out of place." Beckett replied.

"So, what could be so important in this room it be worth the trouble of drugging a man?"

When Beckett did not immediately respond to my question I looked over and saw her looking at the connecting door that was slightly ajar. I watched as she moved towards the connecting door.

"Maybe it wasn't this room she was trying to get into." She suggested. "The only reason to unlock the door adjacent to yours is if..." Beckett's voice trailed off as she pushed open the connecting door and then the door on the other side. I followed Beckett as she entered the connecting room.

"You knew who your neighbour was." I said finishing Beckett's sentence.

"Maybe Sophie only wanted to get into Mike's room so she could get into this one." Beckett said as she looked around.

"So, whose room is this?" I asked.

Beckett walked to the adjacent bedroom and peered into it. Her gaze fell to the carpeted floor and spotted something sparkling. She entered the room and walked over to the end of the bed. Bending down she saw that it was an earring. She pulled out her pen and carefully lifted the earring with it.

"Castle." Beckett called out.

I entered the bed room to find Beckett crouched at the end of the bed holding the earring at the end of her pen. "Sophie's missing earring." I said. "This could be where she was killed."

The door to the hotel room and Greg Murphy entered. He was startled to find me standing in the doorway of his bedroom. The surprise was quickly replaced by anger.

"Hey, what are you doing in my room?" Greg demanded.

Beckett rose from her crouch and came to stand at my shoulder holding up the earring for Greg to see.

A look of surprise appeared on Greg's face the moment her saw the earring. He was even more surprised when Beckett placed the earring in a plastic evidence bag and passed it to me and then walked up to Greg and placed him under arrest for suspicion of the murder of Sophie Ronson.

Needless to say Greg was quite effusive in proclaiming his innocence when the cuffs were slapped on him and even more so when a pair of uniforms which Beckett had called in hauled him out of the room and off to the precinct. I did not say much when this was going on except for the judgemental expression on my face.

Greg was left to stew in the interrogation room for about an hour while Beckett prepared for the questioning of our chief suspect for Sophie's murder. While Beckett was preparing I might have made known what my opinion of Greg was. That he was guilty as all get out. Beckett humoured me by mostly ignoring what I was saying. Then she picked up her portfolio and started for the interrogation room, I was right at her high heels.

Greg was a little annoyed at seeing me sitting in on the interrogation room but did not say anything. Beckett came right out and asked him why did he kill Sophie. Greg denied it immediately despite his anger at being accused of murdering Sophie.

"This is crazy." Greg said. "I did not kill Sophie Ronson."

"Then how did her earring end up in your room?" I asked.

Greg did not answer, he looked like he was weighing up his situation,

"You have a chance to come clean here, Greg." Beckett informed him. "If I were you, I would take it."

Greg looked at Beckett and then me before shifting his gaze back to Beckett.

"I got back to the room around one. I was pretty drunk." Greg said slowly. "Next thing I know, it was two in the morning and somebody was in bed with me and they had their hand down my pants. I thought it was Kyra. I...I figured she'd changed her mind about spending the night apart."

"But it wasn't. It was Sophie." Beckett prompted.

"And you figured, 'What the hell, love the one you're with'." I added.

"No!" Greg replied heatedly.

"Oh, come on, Greg!" I scoffed, a little stridently. "Sophie's a beautiful girl and you were hours away from strapping on the ball and chain for life."

"No. I love Kyra. I would never cheat on her." Greg said. A look of guilt appeared on his face as he turned away. "Especially with Sophie."

"Why especially with Sophie?" Beckett asked.

I recognised that look on Greg's face when he looked away. As I said, it was a guilty look. I leaned forward in my chair and stared at Greg.

"Had you slept with her before?" I asked.

"Why is he here?" Greg demanded. "He's a writer not a cop."

"Answer the question, Greg. Did you sleep with Sophie?" Beckett demanded.

"Once or twice." Greg conceded.

I leaned back with a smirk on my face.

"It was before Kyra and I even met, and we both knew it was a mistake." Greg added.

"A mistake that Sophie tried to repeat." I remarked. I glanced at Beckett. "Or maybe she succeeded?"

"No." Greg said heatedly. He paused and took a breath. "When I saw her, I freaked. I shoved her away, she fell on the floor. That must've been when her earring came off. Before I could do anything else, she ran out the door. I mean, it all happened so fast, it di...it didn't even seem like it was real."

"Why didn't you say anything when you found out that Sophie was murdered?" Beckett asked.

Greg looked at Beckett.

"Because I knew how it would sound."

"Pretty much like it sounds now. Like a lie." I said snidely.

"Okay, that's it. I want him gone." Greg shouted. "He's clearly got it in for me because he wants to get into fiancée's pants."

"I'm not the murder suspect here." I told him firmly.

"I am done answering questions until he is gone."

"You don't make demands here, Greg." I said, my voice rising.

"Castle." Beckett hissed.

I was glaring across the table at Greg and slowly I turned to look at her. She leaned towards me.

"Go and see if Ryan and Esposito have come back with forensics from Greg's hotel room." She said in a low but firm tone of voice.

I regarded her a moment, not believing that she would send me out of the room all because our murder suspect had demanded it. The look she gave me told me all I needed to know. She wanted me out of the room.

Rising to my feet I was not a happy man. I glared at Greg as I slowly left the interrogation room.

"Now walk me through what happened." I heard Beckett tell Greg.

On leaving the interrogation room I immediately walked right into the observation room and watched the rest of the interrogation. I could not believe what I was observing and shook my head more than a few times. It was only when Uncle Teddy came into the interrogation room to represent Greg did I finally have enough and left the observation room. I went and got a coffee for myself. I brought the coffee over to Beckett's desk and sat myself down in her chair and waited for Beckett and Greg to emerge from the interrogation room. From where I was sitting I had a good view of the interrogation room.

I was staring at the screen saver on Beckett's computer when I heard the door of the interrogation room open and I saw Beckett escorting Greg and Uncle Teddy along the hallway. Quickly I vacated Beckett's chair and moved to sit on my own chair.

After seeing Greg and Uncle Teddy off Beckett came over to her desk.

"I can't believe you're letting him go." I remarked.

"Yeah, well I don't have enough evidence to convict him." Beckett replied.

Beckett set her portfolio on the desk and then removed the cardigan she had been wearing whilst in the interrogation room draping over the back of her chair and pulled on her long black coat. It looked like she was calling it a night and was about to head out.

"Don't tell me you believe that story. It's like a porn movie gone wrong."

"Exactly." Beckett said. "And if you were going to make up a story, would you make up something like that?"

I rose from the chair.

"So the guy is a suit, not a storyteller. It doesn't make him any less guilty." I insisted.

"Look, don't get me wrong, he's still our best suspect." Beckett said. "I'm just not as ready to convict him of murder as you seem to be."

"Is that why you kicked me out of the interrogation?"

"It was clear that I was going to get more out of Greg alone." Beckett said. She started to move away from her desk. "You're just too close to the case to see that."

"You mean I'm too close to her." I shot back as I followed her.

Beckett stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Yes. And you know how I know that?" She said staring at me. "If you weren't, you'd be all over the possibility that Kyra could have killed Sophie."

"That's impossible." I scoffed.

Beckett took a step closer to me.

"See, that's not what Richard Castle would say." Beckett lowered her voice as she spoke, her gaze holding mine. "He would paint a picture about the night before the wedding. About how Kyra couldn't fall asleep and so she went to see Greg, only to find Sophie emerging from his room. And the thought that her fiancée could cheat on her the night before the wedding was too much. So she follows Sophie to her room and confronts her. And when things get violent, Sophie ends up dead."

Despite my feelings related to this case I could not help but be impressed by the story Beckett wove. The story she spun was very much like something I would have told. If I had not been in such an emotional turmoil I would have complimented her on the effort.

Despite the very impressive story Beckett told, I could not believe Kyra would kill Sophie. I knew Kyra. She was not capable of murder. I did not put those thoughts to voice. Instead I just shook my head.

"You have to stay away from her, Castle." Beckett added in a low, almost pleading tone of voice. "Until this case is closed."

With she turned and walked out of the bullpen heading out for the night. I stared at her departing figure. I stood there in the bullpen lost in thought, in the memories from the past and conflicted with theories relating to the case. Eventually I shook off the reveries and slowly headed out as well.

XXX

Over dinner I was rather quiet, certainly not my usual self. Both Mother and Alexis had picked up on it. Alexis would have asked what was wrong with me but I think Mother must have motioned her not to do or say anything.

After dinner I had excused myself and gone into my office. I tried to do some work on my book. After only a little while I gave up on trying to write. I turned to a nearby bookshelf and began to search the lowest shelf until I found the folder I was looking for. I pulled it off the shelf and opened it up. A small smile appeared on my face on seeing the title of the manuscript. It was the original hand written manuscript of _A Rose For Ever After._

I had not seen this manuscript in a great many years. In fact I had not looked through it since I had placed it on the shelf when I first moved into the loft.

I quickly flipped through the pages until I found the old photograph of a very young Kyra and me together.

"Richard Castle, what the hell are you doing?" Mother asked.

I was startled by the sound of Mother's admonishing tone of voice. It was a voice I knew rather well. I had heard it more than a few times when I was a kid.

"Nothing." I said quickly. As a kid it had been my default response, especially if I had done something wrong.

Mother was close enough to see the photograph I was holding in my hand. She was aware of Kyra's return back into my life. I had mentioned it to Mother that first night after catching the case and when she had noticed my moodiness. I had told her about the murdered bridesmaid and who the bride was. Mother rolled her eyes at first but she saw the hurt I still felt and became sympathetic.

"She's getting married to another man." Mother told me.

"It's just a picture." I replied, glancing at the photo in my hand.

"No. It's a loaded gun." Mother said with certainty.

I rose to my feet and ignored the glaring look Mother was shooting in my direction. Thankfully I was spared any further discussion with Mother by phone which started to ring.

"Castle." I said as I answered the call.

"_Is everybody's wedding like this?"_ Kyra asked.

I was surprised at hearing her voice.

"Kyra."

Mother's eyebrows shot up in surprise on hearing who I was talking to on the phone. She had not left the room when my phone had started ringing. I supposed she wanted to continue our discussion.

"_So, my bridesmaid's dead, uh, my fiancée might be a murderer, and then there's you."_

"You've just been through a bad shock, that's all." I assured her.

"_Will you come meet me somewhere?" _Kyra asked.

I wanted my response to be 'yes' but I remembered what Beckett had told me and I hesitated.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." I said slowly.

"_Please? I just need to get out of the hotel for a little while. If I have to listen to my mother judge me anymore, I might start taking hostages."_

There was an almost desperate edge to Kyra's voice. I too would be ready to take hostages if I had to put up with Sheila's constant and relentless carping. Sheila Blaine would try the patience of a saint. I realised that Kyra was in need of a friendly face, a non judgemental one at that.

"I understand completely. How about the roof?" I suggested.

"_Our secret roof?. That's perfect. Thank you."_ Kyra replied.

I rang off and turned to see Mother shaking her head at me. She turned and started walking out of the office.

"Oh, brother. I hope you know what you're doing, kiddo." Mother called out.

I looked down to the photograph that was still in my hand.

"Yeah. Me too." I sighed.

I was out of the loft in less than five minutes.

XXX

It was with a sense of trepidation and anticipation that I slowly climbed up the final flight of stairs towards the door that led onto the roof. Was I doing the right thing, I wondered? Or was I seeking something more than was really there? Yet despite all the swirling emotions I was feeling, I had agreed to the meeting and there was nothing more to it.

Reaching the door I saw it was slightly ajar. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then pushed the door slowly open. A small smile appeared on my lips as I walked onto the roof.

There she was. Standing by the wall, rugged up against the cold of the evening gazing at the buildings that were brilliantly lit providing an illuminated backdrop to our meeting. Kyra turned her head when she heard the door open. She smiled at seeing me.

"How did you know the door would still be unlocked after all these years?" She asked.

"Some things never change." I replied gently.

Kyra nodded her head then turned to gaze at the New York skyline.

"We spent so much time up here that summer." Kyra said slolwy, glancing at me. "You would come over after I got out of class, bag of food in one hand and that note book in the other."

"And then I would write and you would pretend to study." I added.

"I wasn't pretending."

"Oh?"

"Okay, well, I just had a hard time keeping my hands off you." Kyra laughed.

"Does Greg know you're here?" I asked in a low voice.

"He told me about Sophie in his room." Kyra said looking away. "And about, uh, him and Sophie before. He said he was sorry he didn't tell him."

I could see the pain on her face. I could only imagine how that scene had played out when Greg had told her about his past.

"Do you believe him?" I asked Kyra, then added. "I just don't want to see you hurt."

Kyra closed her eyes.

"Hmm. Too late." She murmured.

She started to rubbed her hands against the cold. I reached out and pulled her into my arms. Kyra came willingly and rested her head against my chest.

"I missed you, Rick. And I didn't realise how much until I saw you yesterday."

"I missed you too." I told her.

I had missed her, a lot. It took me a long time to get over losing Kyra.

Kyra lifted her head off my chest and pulled back a little so that she could look up at my face. Her eyes seemed to take every inch of my face as she gazed up at me. I was doing the same with her face. Slowly I leaned in and kissed her.

For a moment I felt like I had gone back to that summer where he had spent so much time up here on this roof. That time when we felt we had the world at our feet and we would be together for ever.

A part of me wanted to deepen the kiss, to go beyond just one kiss. I did not though. As I had been kissing Kyra, there was a little voice in the back of my head reminding me in no uncertain terms that Kyra was no longer mine. Reluctantly I broke away from the kiss and smiled sadly down at her.

We remained up on the roof for about an hour or so, keeping warm against the cold and talking about old times, finding out what each other had been doing since we had parted ways. On my suggestion Kyra left first but I remained on the roof for a little while longer. I felt wretched.

XXXXX

_**Your thoughts? Let me know what you thought by dropping me a line.**_

_**Con **_


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

The Case of A Rose For Ever After

Part 4

The following morning I walked into the bullpen and over to Beckett's desk. I carried with me two large cups of takeaway coffee. I bought Beckett a coffee as a sign there was no hard feelings between us over that little talk we had the night before. It could have also been because I might have been feeling a little guilty that despite our little talk, I had gone against her expressed wishes. I placed the coffees down on her desk.

Beckett did not look up when I had placed the coffees down. She seemed to be sitting a little taller than normal but I really did not take too much notice of that. I was in a subdued mood.

"What did I tell you?" Beckett said finally, looking up at me.

"What?"

"Did I or did I not make myself clear?"

At first I was a little confused at her reaction and then the guilty feelings kicked in.

"Yes." I replied.

"Do you know how much it annoys me knowing what you're doing?" Beckett said. "Touching things that should not be touched. Yanking things that shouldn't be yanked?"

"No. no." I stammered. "Nobody yanked on anything."

I was momentarily relieved to realise Beckett was talking about something completely different.

"Really?" She said. "Then how do you explain this?"

I watched as she pushed herself away from her desk and started kicking her legs which were a few inches off the floor. She directed one of her looks at me as she was kicking her legs. Someone had changed the height of her chair.

"Huh?" I muttered.

"Oh, don't give me that look." She admonished. "I've told you a million times not to mess with my chair."

Beckett readjusted her chair and shifted closer to her desk.

"Right. No, I'm sorry. And it wont happen again." I apologised.

I sat down in my chair and stared off into space. My conscience weighed heavily on me. I did not want to tell Beckett about my meeting with Kyra but I knew I had to. It was the right thing to do.

"I saw her last night." I said, breaking the silence that had descended between us.

"I know." Beckett said after a moment.

I turned and looked at her.

"What?"

Beckett had a small smirk on her face as she reached over and picked up a file off her desk. She opened the file and showed me a series of surveillance photographs. They were shots of Kyra and me up on the roof. There was even a shot of me kissing Kyra.

"You had me under surveillance?" I asked in surprise.

"Not you, Kyra." Beckett retorted.

"Why would you have Kyra under surveillance?"

"She's a murder suspect."

"Oh, no, no. See Sophie's murder was an isolated crime of passion." I stated. "Watching Kyra after the fact would be a waste of police resources, which we both know you would not do."

"I had to make sure you didn't do anything stupid." Beckett countered. "Which you did."

"We just kissed. That's all that happened."

Beckett leaned closer to me.

"That's all that happened for now." She said.

I could not help but notice that Beckett seemed a little angrier than I expected. Okay, I had disobeyed her by going to meet Kyra. That would have certainly displeased her but for some reason I felt there was more to her anger than about me having met up with Kyra.

We were staring at each other just as Esposito walked up to Beckett's desk.

"Hey, the financia..." Esposito's voice trailed off when he saw Beckett and I facing off.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." Beckett said.

"No." I said at the same time.

"Okaaay." Esposito replied, with a smirk on his face. The smirk vanished almost immediately as he got down to business.

"Financials came in on our groom. No red flags." Esposito passed the file across to Beckett. "He actually lives pretty modestly for someone with a trust fund."

"Anything from the lab?" Beckett asked, glancing at the report in her hands.

"Nothing useful." Esposito said. "Greg's hair and fibre samples came back negative. Other than the earring, there's no physical evidence tying him to the murder."

Ryan walked up and joined his partner by at Beckett's desk.

"So, I retraced Sophie's steps leading up to the wedding." He reported. "She checked into the Beaumont on Friday, but she flew into the city on Thursday morning."

Beckett's brow furrowed at that piece of information.

"What was she doing all day Thursday?" She asked.

Both Ryan and Esposito shrugged their shoulders indicating they had no idea in answer to that question. However, she had a way to find out answer to that question. She ordered the boys to bring in the guests and question them again.

XXX

Once again thanks go to Detectives Ryan and Esposito for their help in the next part of the story.

The wedding party were rounded up and brought to the precinct where Ryan and Esposito interviewed them in one of the conference rooms that had been set aside for the task. They interviewed each member of the wedding party individually.

Kevin Murphy was the first cab of the rank and all he could say was he did not know what Sophie was doing all day Thursday. He claimed no to have seen Sophie until the night of the rehearsal dinner and they did not even talk.

Next into the conference room was Uncle Teddy, Ted Murphy. He too was unable to provide any useful information. He told the detectives he hardly knew Sophie at all. Laurie Hill said that the first time she saw Sophie was at the Wedding breakfast on Friday morning.

Sheila Blaine was the next person into the conference room. She looked rather put out for having been called into the precinct to answer more questions about Sophie Ronson. She told the boys that she had know idea what Sophie was doing on Thursday, the day she flew into New York. Sheila being Sheila she could not help herself, adding a comment that she was sure that it was nothing good, whatever it was.

Sheila once on a roll then told the boys that Sophie had called her after the engagement party asking Sheila to pay for the for the flight to New York for the wedding. Ryan asked Sheila if she had paid. Sheila said she did not. She told Sophie that people have to make their on way.

"So You have no idea what Sophie did on Thursday?" Esposito asked.

"No, but guess what she was doing on Friday when I first saw her?" Sheila said.

"What's that?" Esposito said.

"Shopping at the hotel store." Sheila informed him. "Here she is telling everybody how broke she is, and somehow, oh, suddenly she has money to burn."

Sheila would have continued her diatribe but the boys quickly reined her in. Thanked her for coming and rapidly ushered her out of the room.

XXX

A short while later the boys were sitting around Beckett's desk going through Sophie's financials. Beckett too was going through the financials though she was pacing the floor.

"Between the shoes, the dress, the hotel and the flight, Sophie must have dropped three grand this weekend easy." Beckett remarked.

"I don't know how." Esposito said. "Her bank balance is $18 and her credit cards are maxed out."

"How much did the drug dealer say she paid for the roofies?" I asked, glancing over to Ryan.

"Two hundred bucks. Cash." Ryan informed me.

"Problem is, Sophie withdrew her last $100 to fly to New York." Esposito pointed out. "As far as I can tell she didn't have $200 to give."

"So, who paid for the drugs?" I asked.

"Forget the drugs." Beckett declared. "I've been a bridesmaid six times. How did she pay for the dress?"

Beckett had the boys go back to the hotel and check with the bridal shop. The boys got to their feet and quickly headed out. I turned to look at Beckett with a question on my lips but I saw her reaching for her phone. The question remained unasked. I rose to my feet and made my way to the break room to get us some coffee.

I would have returned to Beckett's desk sooner but I got waylaid by a business call which came through while I was making Beckett's coffee. It was a call which I could not put off. Half an hour later I finally was able to finish the business call, make the coffees and return with them back to Beckett's desk.

Beckett was finishing up a call when I set down the coffees on her desk and then sat myself down.

"Okay...thank you." Beckett said and hung up the phone. She turned to look at me. "So, not only did Sophie pay for her flight in cash, but she also made her last three rent payments in cash as well."

My eyebrows rose slowly upwards in surprise.

"Any idea where it all came from?" I asked.

"Not yet." Beckett shook her head.

The time came to ask the question that I had wanted to ask her a short while ago. A small smile settled on my lips as I looked across to her.

"So, six times a bridesmaid, huh?" I said. Beckett smiled gently at me but remained silent

"You wouldn't have any pictures, would you?" I asked hopefully.

Much to much disappointment I did not get an answer to my question because Ryan and Esposito had returned from their foray to the bridal shop at the Beaumont Hotel.

"Who feels like watching a little bridal shop surveillance video?" Ryan asked. He waved a DVD in his hand before he passed it to Beckett.

"It is good...will I be shocked?" I asked eagerly.

"Oh, you definitely did not see this coming." Esposito assured me.

Beckett loaded the DVD into her computer and called it up on her screen.

"Okay, there's Sophie." Beckett said as we watched our victim as she came into shot.

I noticed that there was a man sitting on a couch. He had his back to us but he rose to his feet when Sophie arrived. The man turned so the video camera could capture his face.

"Greg's Uncle Teddy." Beckett declared.

I was surprised. No, I was more than surprised. Esposito had been right. I definitely did not see that coming.

"He said he barely knew her." I remarked.

"Oh, he definitely knew her." Ryan said. "According to the bridal shop owner, when Teddy was paying for the dress, Sophie told him she wasn't sure if she could go through with it."

"But Teddy said, after all he'd done for her, she couldn't back out now." Esposito added.

"Now, I've heard of brides getting cold feet, but bridesmaids?" I said looking at Beckett.

"Did he pay for the dress in cash?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Ryan said, frowning.

I recognised the gleam in Beckett's eyes as she looked at me.

"All that cash means that Uncle Sugar Daddy didn't want a paper trail tying him to whatever Sophie was doing for him." She said.

"Yeah, but what could it be?" I replied. "And what was it so important for Sophie to go to Greg's wedding?"

Beckett reached for her desk phone and started dialling a number, at the same time she ordered the boys to go pick up Uncle Teddy.

XXX

The call Beckett had made was to get a warrant for Ted Murphy's financials. When they had finally arrived Beckett and I went through them and they did make for some very interesting reading. Then we got the report back on the metal traces that Lanie had found on Sophie's body. That resulted in another warrant being issued for us to search Uncle Teddy's hotel room. What we found in that search made things even more interesting.

Uncle Teddy had been sitting in the interrogation room for quite some time. He was tapping his fingers on the table to while away the time and probably to contain his growing anger at finding himself alone in an interrogation room for a long time.

Beckett and I were standing in the observation room watching Uncle Teddy. With us in the room was an agitated Greg Murphy.

"This is ridiculous." Greg exclaimed. "You don't have enough to build a case against me, so you go after someone else in my family?"

"We're trying to get to the truth." Beckett told him.

"By hauling my uncle? For God's sakes, he hardly knew Sophie." Greg insisted.

"And yet he paid for her dress and a plane ticket out here." I said.

"He bought her dress?" Greg was a little surprised on hearing that.

"If he barely knew her, why would her do that?" Beckett asked.

"We heard through the grapevine that Sophie might have some trouble making the money to come out here to the wedding." Greg replied. "Maybe Teddy was trying to help her out, for us."

"That doesn't explain the fifteen hundred that he paid her for the last three months." Beckett pointed out.

Greg looked confused as he processed the information he had been given.

"He was...He was paying her?" He muttered.

"Mm-hmm." Beckett nodded.

"For what?"

"Some kind of deal they got going on." I explained. "We think it could have something to do with the way she was behaving the night before your wedding."

"Yeah, sure, he paid Sophie to roofie a groomsman and then climb into bed with me." Greg said with rising anger in his voice.

"Look, we know how this sounds." Beckett said carefully.

"Yeah, it sounds like something out of one of Rick's little books." Greg accused.

"Little books?"

I must admit that I was a little bit offended at my works being described as 'little books'. It got my hackles up.

"What would even be the point of that, except to mess up the wedding?" Greg said. "Why the hell would Teddy want that?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." I said. My tone may have been a little harsh after how he had described my books.

"Oh, my God. For God sake's. Next you're going to tell me that he's in love with Kyra too." Greg said angrily.

That barb of Greg's was aimed squarely at me, and I rose to the bait.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said as I took a step towards Greg.

"You guys." Beckett warned.

"You know damn well know what that means." Greg shot back.

"No, Greg..."

"Whoa" Beckett said, stepping between us.

"...I don't. If you've got something to say to me, why don't you just say it?" I challenged.

"I love Kyra, Rick. She means the world to me." Greg said, standing his ground. "Maybe you can't see it, maybe you don't care, but Teddy has been nothing but supportive of us the whole way. He filed our wedding license. He helped with our prenup. He always looks...after..."

Greg's voice trailed off when a thought occurred to him.

"What?" Beckett demanded, noticing the change in Greg's demeanour.

Greg started to back away towards the door.

"I got to make a call." He said before he left the observation room.

Beckett shot me a quizzical look. All I could do was shrug my shoulders in reply.

A minute later Beckett and I entered the interrogation room where Uncle Teddy had been waiting.

"Do you know how long I have been sitting in here?" Uncle Teddy said angrily.

I smiled as I started to take my seat.

"I'm sorry for the wait. I hadn't anything to eat." I informed him, my smile growing. "We couldn't decide on a restaurant."

Uncle Teddy levelled an angry glare in my direction.

"What, do you think this is funny?" Uncle Teddy growled.

Beckett remained standing. She was holding a brown coloured folder which she opened and pulled out a couple of thick blue coloured files which she placed on the table in front of Uncle Teddy.

"Do you recognise these files, Mr Murphy?" Beckett asked.

He looked at them and then up at Beckett.

"You went to my office?" He said.

"We got a warrant first. Don't worry." Beckett retorted.

"Look, a layman like you couldn't possibly understand the financial and legal implications of an estate like Greg's." Uncle Teddy said in a smug tone of voice.

Beckett glanced down at me.

"I think he just called you stupid." I said, looking a little surprised.

Beckett turned and looked down at Uncle Teddy, a hard expression on her face. When you're the chief suspect in a murder investigation and have been hauled in for questioning by the police, I don't think it's a great idea to imply that the chief investigator, the one questioning you, is stupid. Uncle Teddy was about to find out what happens when you do that.

"Greg's grandparents established a trust fund that he was going to receive on his wedding day and named you as the executor. How am I doing so far?" Beckett said, a small smile on her face. "And for the past five years you've been stealing from that fund to fuel your expensive lifestyle. A house in the Hamptons, a Ferrari..."

"A pair of top-of-the-line breast implants." I interjected. "I'm assuming those aren't for you, though."

"My personal life is none of your business." Uncle Teddy retorted.

Beckett had come over and sat down beside me and had opened her portfolio.

"It is when it leads to murder." Beckett informed him sharply. She glanced down at her portfolio a moment before she looked over at Uncle Teddy. "You lost a ton of money in the market."

"Everybody did." Uncle Teddy shrugged.

"But not everybody had access to Greg's trust fund." Beckett volleyed back. "When you ran out of your own money, you started using his. Burned through almost the entire two million, and then when he called you to tell you he was getting engaged, you panicked because you didn't have enough equity to put it back."

Teddy was become a little uncomfortable at the story Beckett was spinning for him. I wanted to get into the fun too.

"You realised that the only way to avoid detection was to put a stop to the wedding." I said. "But how? Greg was in love with Kyra. Kyra was in love with Greg."

"And then you met Sophie at the engagement party and you realised that she was the perfect instrument to sabotage Greg's wedding because she was desperate for money." Beckett added.

"That's ridiculous." Uncle Teddy scoffed, looking from Beckett to me. He had fixed a confident smile to his face.

"The fact that she still carried a torch for Greg made it that much easier to convince her to sneak into Greg's room in the middle of the night." I continued.

"With this."

Beckett held up a small digital camera which was encased in a plastic evidence bag.

"Sophie's video camera." Beckett said. "We found this in your luggage in the hotel. It still has Sophie's fingerprints all over it."

The smug smile on Uncle Teddy's face faltered a little bit on seeing Sophie's video camera. But it returned as he looked back at us.

"Only she didn't quite get the footage you were hoping for, did she?" I told him. "When Greg refused Sophie's advances, she had a change of heart. She ran back to her room where you were waiting for her."

"What happened, Mr Murphy?" Beckett continued. "Did she threaten to expose you? To tell everybody what you asked her to do?"

"You couldn't let that happened." I said, taking up where Beckett had left off. "And then you realised there was another way to sabotage Greg and Kyra's wedding. Kill a bridesmaid."

"Wow." Uncle Teddy chuckled. "What a story. And very well told, I might add."

I grinned as I bowed my head at Uncle Teddy's compliment.

"But that's all it is. A story."

A small predatory grin appeared on Beckett's face. The kind you might see on a tigress when she is about to pounce on an unsuspecting deer or other quarry that she has been stalking. If tigresses could smile that it. I think you get the meaning. Anyway, I digress...

"Really?" Beckett said. Her hand fell on another evidence bag that was sitting on the table beside her. "Do you remember how I told you that we went through your luggage?"

Uncle Teddy was wearing a smug confident grin on his face as he looked Beckett. She held up the tie tack we had also found in his luggage.

"We found this tie tack." Beckett informed him. "Platinum, right?"

The smug grin slowly began to dissolve from Uncle Teddy's face as he stared at the tie tack.

"Did you know that we found trace evidence of platinum in the wounds in Sophie's back?"

I opened a file which contained Sophie's autopsy photographs. I picked up the one of her back showing the wounds that had been made.

"You probably didn't even realise you were making them when you were choking her from behind." I said as I placed the photograph in front of Uncle Teddy for him to see.

"Which is why it never occurred to you to get rid of the one piece of physical evidence that tied you to the crime." Beckett said.

Uncle Teddy stared at Beckett too stunned to speak. He had thought he had gotten away with murder. He did not think that being questioned by the police would be anything but a necessary nuisance which would not last long and then he would be off scott free. I rather enjoyed watching the smugness being wiped from his face to be replaced with shock as the enormity of it all hit him square in the face.

"We're sorry we kept you waiting." I told him.

Needless to say that Uncle Teddy was charged with murder. Not very happy at being caught, Uncle Teddy proved to rather recalcitrant in answering any further questions. On the advice of his lawyer, Uncle Teddy chose not to answer further questions. It did not really matter. We had the evidence that tied him to the murder, so a confession from him was not really necessary. It would have been nice but we did not need it.

After we had Uncle Teddy booked and on his way to Central Booking, Beckett and I returned to her desk. The euphoria of having got the right guy was starting to wane. Beckett had started on the paperwork relating to the case. I asked Beckett if I could call Kyra and tell her what had happened?

She thought about it a moment before she nodded her head.

It was evening when Kyra appeared in the bullpen. I rose from my chair and picked up the small digital camera which I had downloaded a copy of the video that we had found on Sophie's camera. Meeting her at the elevator, I escorted Kyra into the conference room across from Beckett's desk. I sat Kyra down then sat down beside her. I explained to her in greater detail what Uncle Teddy had done. It came as a shock to Kyra to hear all of it.

The other reason I had called Kyra in was to show her Sophie's blackmail video and to tell her something. Greg may not have been my favourite person and we had butted heads over the course of the case. It might have been because I had been jealous of him, or it might have been I was envious of him because he had gotten the girl. A girl who had meant so much to me a long time ago.

However the confrontation in the observation room with Greg had shown me something, something which I did not want to admit to myself initially. As I was talking to Kyra I caught sight of Beckett looking in the direction of the conference room, no doubt curious about what Kyra and I were talking about. When she thought I was looking at her she would quickly look away.

After I had filled Kyra in on what Uncle Teddy had done I played the blackmail video for her.

"_Sophie, what are you doing?"_

"_Come on, Greg. You and me, one last time. We were good together."_

"_No. Stop it."_

"_Come on. It'll be fun."_

"_No. What is the matter with you?"_

"_I just thought..."_

"_I'm getting married tomorrow, okay? To the woman that I love."_

I stopped the video there. There was no need to see the tussle that occurred as Sophie scrambled out of Greg's bed and ran out of the room.

"Teddy's plan would have worked too, if it weren't for the one thing he didn't count on." I said in a low voice. Kyra looked away from the video camera and up to me. "Greg." I added with a small smile.

Kyra smiled at that.

"He's a good man, Kyra. He's an honourable man. And he loves you."

This is what I wanted to tell Kyra. That night upon our secret roof Kyra had been hurting after being told by Greg about his previous relationship with Sophie. Though she had not come right out and say it, I could tell that she was starting to have second thoughts about the whole wedding. I wanted to allay her fears.

"I know." Kyra smiled. "And I love him too. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to think about you from time to time."

"Oh, you better."

Kyra rose slowly to her feet and collected her coat and bag.

"Of all the murders, in all the cities, at all the weddings, and you walk into mine." Kyra said as she came to stand beside me. I looked up at her.

"I'm glad I did." I told her.

Kyra smiled as she bent down to kiss my cheek.

"Thank you, Rick." She said softly.

I watched as Kyra walked over to the door and open it, then head out. I caught sight of Beckett hurriedly turning her attention back to her paperwork fearing she might have been caught out staring.

Kyra walked over to Beckett's desk. Beckett looked up at Kyra. I suppose they were saying goodbye or something but I don't know because I was staring off into the distance. When Kyra did leave, I did feel like I was being watched, which as it happened I was, by Beckett.

About ten minutes later Beckett came into the conference room dragging me away from my reveries. She informed me that she was heading out, and did I feel up to getting a bite to eat. My first response was to decline the invitation, preferring to wallow in my own misery and memories of the one that got away but seeing the look on Beckett's face, I discarded the first response. Right at this moment in time I needed some cheering up. Beckett knew it too, and was offering. I gave her a nod of the head and slowly rose from my chair.

It was only recently that my beautiful and ever inspiring muse and extraordinary partner in life told me what Kyra had said to her, that night after she had walked out of the conference room and over to her desk.

"_He's all yours."_

Needless to say it brought a big grin to my face, and earned me a Beckett Death glare for my troubles. I was spared any physical harm when I pointed out quite rightly, I hasten to add, that it was only the truth that Kyra had said.

XXX

There was an interesting post script to this particular story. It occurred the following day.

I was at home that morning trying to do some writing and not doing a good job of it. Too many painful memories were intruding. I was all but ready to give up when my phone rang. On answering the call I was surprised to hear Kyra on the other end of the line. At first I thought something else had happened and she was calling me for help. Before I hit full panic mode Kyra explained that she called to invite me to her wedding which was taking place early that afternoon. I responded to her that I was there but in the next breath I asked her if Greg was okay with her inviting me to the wedding. The last thing I wanted to do was cause trouble with my presence at Kyra's wedding. Kyra replied that her husband-to-be insisted I come to the wedding. Before she rang off Kyra added that Detective Beckett was also invited.

Further writing for the day was immediately forgotten the moment I put the phone down. I rushed to the bedroom to change out of the t-shirt I was wearing, shower and get dressed in something suitable for a wedding. An hour later I was out the door and down on the street looking for a cab.

I came bouncing into the bullpen like a kid in a candy shop. In my excitement I might have forgotten to explain to Beckett that we had been invited to a wedding. All I did was grab her coat and tried to pull her out of her chair by the arm, telling her we had to go. I got were amused but curious looks from the boys and a glare from Beckett which made me realise what I had been doing.

I paused, took a breath, and then explained that Greg and Kyra had invited us to their wedding.

That piece of information transformed Beckett's expression instantly. A smile came to her face, lighting it up like a beacon. She got to her feet and allowed me to help her into her coat. She grabbed her bag and we headed out.

It was a small and simple wedding held in the ball room where the wedding reception was to be held following the original wedding. There was a much reduced gathering of guests, just immediate family and a couple of friends, Beckett and me. Kyra was wearing a nice black and white dress. Not her wedding dress. Perhaps someone might have been a little too superstitious and thought that wearing the wedding dress might bring even more bad luck than it already had. Greg was dressed in a nice well tailored business suit. It might not have been exactly what Kyra had planned for her wedding originally but it made for a more intimate and special occasion.

There were grins all round when the marriage celebrant asked if there was anyone who objected to this wedding and there was a pause. More than one set of eyes turned in my direction following the marriage celebrant's question. The biggest grins came from Kyra and Greg. I grinned but kept my mouth fimrly shut. When there was no objection, the marriage celebrant pronounced Greg and Kyra husband and wife. As the happy and newly married couple kissed every one rose and applauded.

Moments later Kyra turned her back to the guests and threw the bouquet over her shoulder. I am not at all sure but I kind of suspect that she had already picked her target before she turned her back and threw the bouquet. I watched it sail in the air heading in my direction. A pair of hands reached out and caught the bouquet. The pair of hands belonged to none other than Beckett, who was standing beside me.

Beckett was startled at having caught the bouquet at first and then burst into laughter. I could not help but beam at her, man what a smile she wore.

I teased Beckett mercilessly throughout the little reception that was held for the happy couple and I have to say that she took it well. And again I asked her if she had photos of her wearing those bridesmaids dresses she had mentioned. I got a curt 'in your dreams, Castle' in response to my question.

It might have been because I was caught up in the happy occasion or the two glasses of champagne I had consumed but I recall that I said to Beckett, that in my dreams she always outshone any bride not matter what dress she was wearing. You know, I did not get the Patterned Beckett Death Glare that I was expecting for my temerity. All I got was a thoughtful look punctuated with a small tight lipped but unreadable smile.

XXXXX

_**There you have it the end of another case file. Let me know what you thought of it by dropping me a line. I would really love to hear from you.**_

_**I am going to take a little break in posting chapters of this story because I need to write a few more chapters as well write some chapters of the other story of mine. The break should not be too long though.**_

_**Before I sign off, if I had not done so already, I want to thank everyone who has sent me a review or a message. I love receiving them and it's one of the reasons why I continue with this massive undertaking. Also I want to thank everyone who is following this story or made it one of your favourites. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.**_

_**Until next time, Kindest regards**_

_**Con **_


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